


All I Want for Christmas

by CaityCatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Auror Harry Potter, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Drarry, Fluff, Gets a bit smutty, Grinch the Owl, Happy Ending, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm so shit at tags, M/M, Owls, Please Don't Hate Me, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Secret Admirer, Slow Burn, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21784213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaityCatt/pseuds/CaityCatt
Summary: Harry feels like a bit of a grinch at Christmas, but his true love has a plan to change all that.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 85
Kudos: 294





	1. On the First Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in over a decade and my first-ever Drarry. It's not beta'd and barely revised by me because I got the idea in my head this month and ran with it, working around finals and shit. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. the idea of Harry getting an owl came from A Fluffy Little Olive Branch by JulietsEmoPhase (if you haven't read her stuff, GO DO IT), and the secret admirer at Christmas comes from Have Yourself a Kinky Little Christmas by keyflight790 (great BDSM smut) and tsundanire

When Harry J. Potter walked into his office the morning of Thursday December 12th, he was less than happy, to say the least. A cold, grey slush seemed to be drizzling steadily down from the sky, and the Christmas rush and bustle made everyone even more haggard and less cheerful than usual. He was expecting that same demanding and shitty attitude to start bleeding into the Auror office any day.

It’s not that Harry hated Christmas. Quite the opposite in fact. He was obsessed with it. Always had been. The lights and tinsel and brightly-colored gifts. The books and movies about families celebrating together and grinches growing hearts. He loved it all.

He’d just always felt like he was on the outside of it.

He felt like the grinch, but he hadn’t the heart to steal anyone else’s joy in order to try and create his own.

It hadn’t been so hard at Hogwarts, with Ron and his yearly Weasley jumper, and he still spent Christmas Eve at the Burrow, still got a yearly jumper. But since their school days, his friends had mostly settled down, built families of their own to spend the actual holiday with, and he either had to intrude on that or spend Christmas alone. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley both claimed his as part of the family, as did Andromeda and Teddy, but he still felt like he was slotting himself into someone else’s celebrations. He’d taken to working through the actual day of Christmas in order to keep from facing that, but this year, he only worked a half day. Which meant half of Christmas Day alone. In Gimmauld Place. With no decorations and no carols. No cheer. No Who-Roast-Beast. Just him and some Firewhiskey.

He wondered briefly if he should do something other than sit at home and drink, be more proactive than wallowing in his own self-pity, but it was a Thursday and he’d been splashed with cold water on his way to work and yelled at by a father for not making sure some new broom toy was available on time, as if he had any control over that, so he thought some wallowing was due. He’d worry about the adult way to handle holiday loneliness tomorrow.

With that in mind, he opened his office door, stripped his outer robes and hung them neatly on their hook, then spelled away the cold water clinging to his trouser legs, straightening the charcoal grey slacks as he did. He didn’t notice the owl on his desk until it gave a tiny “whoo.”

The sound was more of a hiccup than a real whoo, and Harry spun around, wand drawn, to see the smallest, fluffiest owl he’d ever laid eyes on sitting atop a small tree next to his desk. The little thing puffed up as it realized it had been noticed and fluttered its wings, wings that looked too tiny to actually carry the animal anywhere, and the pushed one little leg toward Harry, almost toppling off the tree as it did so.

Stunned into action at the sight, Harry walked over and took the note from the little owl’s leg before thinking to check it or the rest of the situation for spells or curses.

“How did someone even get into my office?” His brain seemed to snap back on as he spoke aloud, and he dropped the missive on his desk, sending spells around the room to test for danger, but no. Everything was in perfect order minus the owl in the…. “Is that a pear tree?”

The owl hooted again and fluttered over to nudge at Harry’s letter before looking up at him.

“All right, all right. I’ll read it. But then, you and this.” He waved his hand. “This tree thing are going home. Wherever that might be.”

The owl hooted and flew a circle around the office, reminding him of Pigwidgeon back when he first arrived. Harry smiled without meaning to and opened the letter, spelling it to its correct size and adjust the thing metal frames on his face.

_On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ~~a partridge~~ an owl in a pear tree._

__

__

_Potter,  
It’s that delightful time of year again, when you forget how loved and important you are to so many people around you. Some you don’t even know about. I’ve seen the dark cloud developing, and I couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing. Not again. So, I’ve planned this set of surprises for you. Please do not worry. There is nothing dangerous, either physically or mentally, in what I’ve prepared. My only hope is to bring you a little happiness during a time you tend to need it. To make you smile, which I admit is a bit selfish as I do so love your smile. I’ve never claimed to be anything less than a bit self-serving, though._

__

_For today, you have this owl and pear tree. The tree has been charmed to stay this size, and so long as you put it near the window and ~~water it regu~~ allow the elves who take care of our facilities to water it regularly, it will do just fine and make a lovely perch for what I hope to be your new friend._

__

__

_The owl is an athene noctua, or little owl, one of the smallest around, and perfect for nothing but being annoying, really. I’m sure he can handle whatever communications you have in office, but I have no clue if he would be much good outside of that. However, when I saw him at the pet shop, so small and with his feathers sticking out every direction, big eyes watching everything, I saw you that first night in the great hall. I saw the want to be great, the determination to try, the need for a chance. I couldn’t pass him up any more than I’ve ever been able to pass you up. Besides, he does look a bit like a bespectacled git, doesn’t he?_

__

__

_I know you have hesitated, and by that I mean flat out refused to purchase another owl since you lost yours. You can never and should never attempt to replace someone you cared so deeply about, and I do not mean this little guy to try and replace the beautiful Hedwig. She was your friend, and I only hope that he can become one, as well. You’ve always been so good at making friends, a skill I envy to this day, and he only needs a chance, just a little one, to prove he can be that friend._

__

__

_I understand that I may be asking a great deal of you, more than you’re able to give at this time, and I don’t wish to make demands on you. You’ve had more than enough of that. My request then is that you keep him through the holidays, though your lineage of gifts, and if, at the end, you decide it won’t work, I will gladly take the little guy back. I hope that I don’t have to, though. I hope that he brings you joy._

__

__

_Happy Christmas, until tomorrow  
Your true love_

Harry stared at the perfect, precise script, reading through it three times before feeling like anything had sunk into his suddenly thick skull. _You forget how loved you are. He reminded me of you. The need for a chance. True love._

Swallowing heavily, Harry looked over at the little bird. He was nothing like Hedwig, not in look or behavior. Nothing like her. Nothing.

For once, though, the fact that this owl wasn’t _his_ owl didn’t hurt so much. No one was standing next to this owl and looking at Harry with expectant eyes, eyes that asked if he was ready to move on, move past, get over. For once, someone saw his pain, validated the hurt that still existed where his first real friend had lived, and said that pain was allowed to stay as long as he needed it to. That the memory of that first friend was allowed to stay. _You’re so good at making friends._ The tiny bird bounced around Harry’s desk, nudging at everything, then flew over to a filing cabinet and did the same. Like he was learning the office. Like he wanted to learn it. Like he wanted to be so good at whatever Harry might ask of him. _I saw you, determined to try._

Harry coughed hard, the sound echoing like a sob, and clamped a hand over his mouth. He’d forgotten that want to prove himself. After years and years of being forced to, being asked to save the god-damned world, over and over again, he’d forgotten what it was like to just _want_. To want for himself, rather than hope he helped others survive.

The owl looked up at his cough-that-was-not-a-sob and fluttered back over to the desk, poking around a candy dish before pulling out a peppermint chew and hopping over to nudge it at Harry. Without thinking, Harry opened the treat and popped it in his mouth, grimacing when he bit down and remembered he hated peppermint, how strong it was in things like this, but the owl was watching him, so he dutifully finished the treat, smiling as the tiny thing fluffed and hooted happily, giant eyes squinting shut, when he swallowed it down.

“You reminded him, um, her. Them. Of me, huh? Does that make you a grinch, too?” The owl hooted again, wiggling a bit as he settled himself down in the middle of Harry’s blotter. Sighing, Harry waved his want to put the tree next to the window then transfigured a cup into a bowl and aguamenti’d some water into it. “Allright, Grinch. You have until Christmas.”


	2. On the Second Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, normally I would not be posting two chapters in one day, but I miscounted on what day to start. Thus, two today to catch up for tomorrow.

Though Harry had agreed to keep the little bird, if you can call not arguing with a letter agreeing, he hadn’t been able to bring the bird home. Instead, he’d sent his assistant to the pet shop for a cage, stand, supplies and seed, and had set Grinch up with a little home and all the necessities at the office. He’d refused to make eye contact with those big golden orbs while he readied himself to go home late that night, but the tiny whoo as he’d opened the door had stopped him.

“I…I just can’t, Grinch. I’m not….” He sighed and looked over. “I can’t.” He hadn’t expected the owl to understand, could all but see the want to go with him radiating off the animal, but Grinch had simply stared back for long minutes before hopping over to his pear tree and hooting once more.

Harry felt his body relax as he released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, the same choked, sob-like sound from the morning repeating. Then, he’d nodded at the bird and left.

Scrubbing his eyes, he practically walked over someone else as he reached the lift to head to the atrium and floo home. Someone tall with white-blonde hair and who smelled like sweat and cedar and rain, but the clean kind of rain that left everything refreshed rather than the dirty sludge still falling outside. He barely registered Draco Malfoy was who he’d just barreled over in enough time to stop himself from burying his face in all that pale hair and breathing in that scent.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back, scrubbing his face again, mind scrambling for a way to explain what he knew would be bloodshot eyes. His mind had spent the day whirling back to that first year of Hogwarts, and he braced for the biting sarcasm and bitterness that hung from Malfoy’s arrogant, eleven-year-old shoulders.

That was over a decade ago, though. Instead, when he dropped his hand from his eyes, he saw concern, mixed with a little apprehension, on the other man’s face. “All right there, Potter?” Malfoy’s hand was wrapped around Harry’s upper arm, the grip firm enough to keep him from falling should he have lost his balance but soft enough to be comforting. Before Harry could process that Malfoy wasn’t taking the piss over his teary demeanor, he continued. “I’m usually the only one here so late, otherwise I’d have looked out for you heading this way.”

Harry gaped. Malfoy was taking the blame? Malfoy, whom he’d just walked into, knocked off balance, was taking the blame for their collision. _He’s giving you a way out._ Harry coughed, brows dropping low over his eyes, and he shook his head and straightened his robes. “No, I shouldn’t have.” _He’s giving you an out._ “It’s fine, really. It’s late. We’re all ready to be home.”

Malfoy’s mouth lifted a bit, the lines between his brows disappearing, and he nodded as the lift doors opened. “Agreed.”

They road to the atrium in silence, but not the awkward silence of two men who couldn’t speak to one another, as Harry would have expected. More the comfortable silence of two people who understand that both need a little calm at the end of the day.  
Harry had joined the Aurors rather than return to Hogwarts, and seven years later, he was an assistant head to Robards. Malfoy was a new addition, brought on only a few years back when the department decided to add an in-house group of Potion Masters to help with more sensitive cases. Just as he had at the trials, Harry had advocated for accepting Malfoy as part of the team, pointing out the exceptional scores he’d earned in school and in his later studies and reminding everyone that he’d spent his time since the war working not to rebuild his family’s name but repair what his family had done. The Malfoy wealth and reputation now stood behind ventures meant to build understanding between the wizarding and muggle worlds, to keep the sort of blind prejudice Malfoy had been raised with from tainting the lives of any other children. As a co-worker, Malfoy had applied himself will a steely, compartmentalized focused that led to him quickly being top of his section and an undeniable asset to the Ministry.

Outside of that, he was polite if a little restrained around most people until his work ethic and skill and stopped any snide comments or angry looks. He’d even taken to joining the group for a pint on the weekends, he and Harry having hashed out their differences by coming to blows after a night they were both particularly deep in their cups. After that, though, the two got along well, building a tenuous friendship that seemed to thrive on their mutual competitive natures once they were no longer at each other’s throats.

Malfoy had even reached out to build bridges with Andromeda and was an excellent cousin to Teddy, supporting his current addiction to muggle toy Legos by willingly spending hours helping the small child build any and all playsets he could find and convince someone to get for him. In fact, the two men had spent most of their weekend a few months helping Teddy with something called the UCS Imperial Star Destroyer. Harry had been surprised by how patient Malfoy was with Teddy. The way his long fingers carefully worked the pieces together when Teddy’s were too small. How they’d wrapped around Harry’s wrist when he’d become frustrated with a part not working, offering to take over if he wouldn’t mind getting them all more to drink, as if Harry were the one doing the favor.

The rattling of the doors opening jarred Harry out of his musings, and he looked up to see Malfoy holding the door, gesturing for him to go first. Clearing his throat, Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and exited. He could feel the heat of Malfoy following as they crossed the atrium, still smell him, and he paused for a moment to breath deeply before reaching for his pinch of floo powder. Looking over as Malfoy stepped up to the next floo over, Harry took in the sharp lines of Malfoy’s nose and jaw, the shadow beneath his angular cheekbones, wondered if he’d grown into his own face quite so well and blushed, coughing again to hide his embarrassment at his own thoughts, even though no one else could possibly know what he’d just questioned. “Um, have a good, uh, a good night, Malfoy.”

The other man started slightly, one eyebrow sliding up as he expected this to be some massive joke, but he nodded. “Same, Potter.”

…

The next morning, the same grey shower of sleet was coming down, making everything icy and everyone on edge, the same frustrated parents were running around to get their children gifts, and the same annoyed Harry Potter stomped into office. However, before he could close the door, Grinch flew out.

“What the? Hey!” Dropping his robes, he started to follow but realized the bird was already around a corner and out of sight. “Dammit.” Running his hands through his hair, he sighed, knowing all he could do was hope the bird came back then wondering when he started caring if any bird came back. His sighed turned to a growl and he snatched his robes from the floor and hung them. “Dammit.”

He’d just settled down with his first cup of tea and the stack of tasks for his section of the department when the little bird flew back in, all but landed in the cup, and sent tea splashing all over everything.

“Dammit! Grinch!” Standing quickly as hot liquid splattered him as well as the desk and paperwork. “What’s wrong with you?” The little animal had been squawking and hopping around swinging his leg, but quickly quieted and shrank down at Harry’s bellow. _I saw you in him._ Harry suddenly remembered being very small while someone very large yelled at him for something accidental. Harry sat heavily, struggling to breathe for a moment. “I’m sorry Grinch. I know you didn’t mean to. This isn’t your fault, not really, and I’m sorry.” The bird chirped at him, pushing one leg closer, and Harry realized it was the leg that did not have a letter tied to it but did seem to have taken the worst of the splattered hot tea. Cursing under his breath, he waved his wand to clean the mess from the bird any everything else and scooped up the small animal. “Are you all right? Is it hurt badly?” Grinch chirped again, seemed to examine his own small appendage, then held the other leg out to him. The one with the letter. Smiling, Harry shook his head, “I suppose not, huh?” He took the letter, gave Grinch a few treats, then set the missive aside and collected his reports.

Not two second later, Grinch nipped his thumb.

“Ow! Okay, that was your fault. What the hell?” The bird hopped over the discarded message. “I have work to do. Important, possibly life-saving work. Whatever that is will have to wait.” Grinch made a noise that sounded like he was trying to scream at Harry, a nails-on-the-chalkboard sort of croak. Harry set his back teeth. “I said no. And that’s final. Now, eat your treats.” Grinch sat on the letter. “Fine. Don’t eat them, then. Do whatever you want. Nest in that damn message.” Ignoring the owl as best he could, Harry sorted through his morning task list only to find there was nothing all that time consuming or pressing. Not wanting to admit defeat to a bird, he made a big show out of sending several airplane messages to others in the office to double check that things were as calm as they appeared. They were. He went and made himself another cup of tea. Pretended to read the paper while he drank it. Then finally gave in.

“All right, all right. Give me the letter.” Grinch hooted and bounced over to his treats, chomping them down as Harry broke the seal on the back, realizing he was more excited that the damn bird.

_On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, two tickets to the Ballycastle Bats versus the Appleby Arrows._

_Potter,_   
_I know how much you enjoy Quidditch, though I deplore your constant cheering for the Canons. Just because your friend likes something doesn’t mean you have to like it, too. Of course, the two of you have followed each other into worse that deplorable taste in teams. I tease. I happen to know the Arrows are you favorite and that you were unable to get a ticket to their first match of next year. Here is your ticket. And an extra._

_No matter. I hope you are enjoying your office companion. He seems well off from what I saw your assistant carrying in yesterday. Thank you, regardless of your decision after the holidays, for being so good to him while you have him. Innocents should not be punished for the plotting of others._

_Happy Christmas, until tomorrow,_   
_Your True Love_

Harry looked from the letter to the tickets that had been spelled to the bottom of the letter. He ran his fingers over the two of them, gaze skimming back over the letter.

“He works here, doesn’t he? She? Dammit.” He sighed then laughed. “It’s hard having a true love you don’t know if you’ve even met. But you couldn’t have gone farther than this floor without help, and whoever they are, they saw Davies bringing your things back yesterday.” Harry scrunched up the left side of his face and chewed his lip. “Can you take a letter for me?”

Grinch seemed to vibrate around the desk, excited fluttering and chirping filling the room.

Laughing, Harry snagged a pen, scrawling on the bottom of the letter.

_Thank you, for the tickets and the bird, though I’m still unsure how the latter and I will do. He is entertaining at the least. I wondered_

Harry paused, tapping the end of his quill to his cheek as he tried to formulate his thoughts, not sure how much of himself he wanted to put in a letter that was going to what could be a stranger to him.

_I wondered, with how much you seem to know of me, if I were allowed to know anything of you? You seem fairly determined to keep your identity a secret, but it’s hard to imagine having a true love when you can’t imagine them, if that makes sense._

He tied the letter to the bird’s let. “Off you go.” Grinch looked at the letter and back at Harry. “Go on. Take it to whoever sent you.” The bird sat down and looked back at the letter before titling his head as far to the side as it will go. “I promise, I won’t follow you. I’m not trying to cheat, or whatever. Just, take the letter? Please?” With that Grinch popped up and flew out of the office.


	3. On the Third Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, totes forgot to mention that the song title comes from the Vince Vance and the Valiants version, not the Mariah Carey one.

Harry hadn’t slept well. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, wondering who was writing to him.

The response the day before had come back almost an hour after he’d sent his question. It had taken so long that he’d begun to worry the little owl was lost or that his admirer had deemed the whole thing suddenly too risky. Instead, right before lunch, Grinch had fluttered back in with another note.

_Potter,_  
 _If you’re asking whether I’m a man, the answer is yes. I know you tend to keep your personal life close to the cuff, as you well should, but I also know that your relationship with Oliver was not a mere dalliance or one-off, like the papers had hoped. I’m not sure how much more I’d like to reveal, as I’m not sure how you’ll react, but I don’t suppose it would be very loving of me to refuse you at least some information._

Harry had spent his lunch hour at his desk, writing and revising more letters than he cared to admit, trying to figure out what he should ask that would let him learn about who was writing him without forcing the other man’s hand. Finally, he sent Grinch off again.

_Love,_   
_Thank you for that, for all of your understanding, really. While I would never want to diminish what I had with Ginny during our school years, I am well aware now that it was more my wanting to be part of her family, as it had been so much my own, rather than truly wanting her as she deserved. Of course, she also admits that I was more her holding onto a childhood crush than anything else. As she and Cho are now quite happy together, I feel it all worked out for the best. I suppose that might be a good lead to a question, though. All my exes, the ones I’ll admit to, at least, played quidditch, as did I, and you sent quidditch tickets. Does this mean you also like the sport?_

Harry wasn’t sure he’d speak so plainly were the letter not to an unknown, the mystery of the person allowing him to assume whatever he’d like about their character, but he also enjoyed the freedom of it. He liked knowing he could just be himself without constant worry of backlash. He knew he should question the situation more. Hell, his last correspondence with an unknown had been Riddle’s diary. He needed this, though. He needed this moment of peace with someone who didn’t expect him to merry and bright this holiday. Before he could second-guess himself anymore, he’d sent the letter.

It had taken even longer for this reply to come.

_Potter,_   
_I’m not sure I can explain how it felt to see the word love in your handwriting on something coming to me. The emotions that followed, well, I suppose I shall keep my full reaction to myself. Christmas is a PG holiday, is it not? Yes, I played quidditch. And quite well, thank you very much, though I was always outshone by you. I’d be angry, but you on a broom may well be why I know I like…brooms…. I suppose we’re getting out of PG territory again, though._   
_Yours_

Harry had been called away from his desk before he could respond, forced to sit through his mid-month meeting with Robards and the other heads of office while that letter and all its implications burned through his mind.

Those ideas were still there that night, and his head thrashed against the pillow as his mind conjured faceless images of men on brooms, wondering what position they’d play, only to have the double entendre of that leave him groaning and digging his fingers into the sheets beneath him. He finally fell asleep to whispers of _yours, yours, yours_ in a voice he couldn’t place.

When his alarm woke him on Saturday morning, bright and early for the daily runs he demanded of himself, he snarled and contemplated throwing a well-aimed incendio at it. As he rolled to quite the sound, though, he noticed a tray next to his bed. Kreatcher knew he wouldn’t eat until after he returned from his run, so the plate of food under a stasis charm was highly out-of-place. Sitting up, Harry removed the charm and groaned as the scents assailed him, pulling the tray into his lap. It was piled high with cinnamon rolls, bacon and sausage, and fresh fruit, and when he tried the coffee, it was perfect. Just the right temperature and the right amount of milk to take the bite out of the bitterness. Even better, when he allowed himself a small taste of a roll, he realized that rather than being regular cinnamon rolls, they were flavored with…

“Treacle tart.” It was then that Harry had noticed the note.

_On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, the right to rest you plonker._

Harry laughed so hard he almost spilled his coffee and had to right his tray before continuing to read.

_I know you’ve awoken to run, as you do each morning, and I know you’ll return home for a healthy breakfast of toast with cheese and fruit before showering and going about your day in an equally healthy and planned and, dare I say, unhappy manner. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a good run most mornings, and there is nothing wrong with toast and cheese. You, however, tend to build your entire life around being the best Auror you can be, in the best shape you can be, with the most dueling practice and the most hours logged training. While that is admirable, both in work ethic and physical result, you forget that you are allowed to be more than Auror. You were always Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, Twice, Golden Boy, Savior. Never just Harry. You’re still not allowing yourself to be Harry. I suppose it would be a bit frightening to try and figure out who Harry is underneath all of that, especially with the wizarding world hanging on your every word and move. I think you should, though. I think that Harry, just Harry, is pretty wonderful. Enjoy._

The letter slipped to the bed, and it took several minutes until his eyes stopped watering. How could he be so seen by someone he didn’t know? How could he be so seen period? He worked hard to keep the soft places of himself hidden, not wanting them to be a liability to himself of anyone, to close himself off.

He stopped. Close himself off. Maybe he’d closed off too much. Closed out too many. Picking up the letter, he almost accio’d a quill to respond when he remembered Grinch was still in the office, a note left for the elves to please keep his food and water fresh as they took care of the office. The owl had looked up as Harry had prepared to leave the night before, but when Harry made no move to collect him, he’d hopped over to his tree without a sound.

Harry sighed and scrubbed his face, that just more proof of how closed off he’d been. Deciding to change that, he settled back and dug into his breakfast, making plans. He finally got up almost an hour later, showered, and jogged downstairs to meet Kreatcher in the kitchen. “Hey, um, do you know who sent over breakfast? Or asked you to make it?”

The wrinkled elf scoffed at him. “Great Harry Potter thinks Kreatcher doesn’t know what’s going on in his own home? Thinks food just magically appears with no help from old Kreatcher?”

Harry blushed and scrubbed a hand through his still-damp hair. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. My bad. Don’t suppose you can tell me who he is?” Kreatcher snorted again, and Harry laughed. “Figures. I need to step out, run a couple errands. Not sure how long they’ll take.”

“Just be sure Master is home for lunch.”

Harry bit back wanting to ask why, preferring to hold onto the excitement of another possible surprise, and instead finished getting ready before flooing to Diagon Alley to visit Eyelops Owl Emporium. Several hours later, once he had all the necessary items sent to his house, he ducked into the Ministry and headed up to his office. Grinch was still sitting on his tree when Harry opened the door. His head lifted as the door opened, and he hooted softly as Harry grinned at him.

“Let’s go home, Grinch.” The bird popped up, flying three circles around the office before diving onto Harry’s shoulder, nipping at his ear. “Okay, okay. I’m excited, too.” Harry laughed and locked the door, still grinning when he once again met Malfoy at the lifts. “Afternoon. I didn’t think you were scheduled for today.”

Malfoy’s head swiveled around, one brow lifting. “Didn’t think you were either.”

Harry nodded and grimaced, “Yeah, no. I, uh. I just forgot something in my office, and it couldn’t wait until Monday.”

A second brow joined the first, Malfoy’s lips lifting as he brows did. “That so? I’m in the midst of a project that I needed to check on.” He reached up to pet Grinch, gently rubbing the backs of his fingers over the little owl’s chest, his fingertips ghosting lightly over Harry’s cheek as he did. The little owl preened and fluffed, and Harry felt like he did the same, chills running down his arms at the brief touch, static filling his ears.

He jolted when he realized Dra-Malfoy had spoken. “Huh? What?”

Malfoy’s smile widened, and he motioned to the bird. “You don’t normally have an owl.”

“Oh!” Harry flushed, clearing his throat twice before continuing to speak. “Uh, yeah. This is…this is Grinch. He’s. He was a gift.”

Malfoy nodded, motioning Harry inside as the lift doors opened. “Christmas coming early?”

Harry’s blush increased, not wanting to let anyone know about his admirer, wanting that to be something that was just his for now. “It seems. What about you? Are you ready for the holiday?”

Malfoy shrugged, hands sliding into the pockets of his back slacks, his outer robes hung over his arm. “I don’t do much for the holidays, usually. Tend to work.” He cleared his throat. “Most the rest of my department has a family at home.”

Harry looked over, smiling slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, mine, too. That’s really nice of you.”

Malfoy’s eyes went wide, the grey standing out starkly as his face went pink. Harry grinned, inordinately pleased at making Malfoy blush, and this time, he held the door as Malfoy had to collect himself before exiting. They crossed the atrium side by side, and Harry grinned over at Malfoy. “I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

Malfoy startled but smiled back, nodding.

Harry was still grinning when he arrived home to find lunch waiting. Steak and kidney pie, his favorite, and treacle tart pudding for dessert. Grinch circled the house, exploring every nook and cranny as Harry ate, then followed him around as he set up the stand and showed Grinch where to sleep. His bird’s unending energy levels reminded him of his godson, and Harry quickly floo-called Andromeda, asking if he could collect Teddy the next day.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon rereading his old copy of _Flying with the Canons_ until Kreatcher called him for dinner. Sitting on the table was charred fillet steak and a wine bottle.

Not much of a wine drinker, Harry lifted the bottle to read the label, but Domaine de la Romanee-Conti meant nothing to him. He popped the cork and poured a glass, thinking Malfoy would probably understand the significance. The robust flavor was nice, though, and it paired nicely with his steak, even to his untrained tongue.

That night, he slept far better than he had before, and he wondered how much of it was his admirer and his gifts or joy of having given himself a day off to just enjoy life.


	4. On the Fourth Day

Harry didn’t set his alarm the next morning, and though his body still woke him fairly early, he managed an extra hour of sleep before making his way downstairs to breakfast, wondering if he could convince Kreatcher to make more of those cinnamon rolls from yesterday. He stopped cold when he reached the kitchen, though, the heel of one hand still pressed against his eye as he scrubbed the last of sleep away. Harry had remodeled most of Grimmauld place, getting rid of the cobwebs, elf heads, and portraits of Walburga, but he’d kept a few items that reminded him of what had happened here. One of those was the long table he and the Order sat at while planning during the War. He often sat at the same place Sirius had, placed his hands where his godfather had in an attempt to still feel close to him.

Sitting on that same table were four flower bouquets.

Harry blinked the one eye he had opened, as if the flowers might disappear. Dropping his hand, he groped for his glasses, which were on top of his head. Once they were settled onto his face, though, he was still staring four sets of flowers. Walking forward, he examined the four bundles. The first he knew were lilies, a large red bow wrapped around their vase, the second were red roses with a green bow around them, and the third were sunflowers with a gold bow. The final vase held small purplish-blue flowers that looked too delicate to touch and had a silver bow.

While Harry understood that lilies were his mother and that red roses meant love, the other two, especially he ones he couldn’t identify, confused him. He knew they must mean something, his admirer had yet to do anything without careful thought and planning. Flowers had always been Neville’s thing, though, and this wasn’t something he wanted to share yet, even with a good friend.

He started to reach for the note only to be pulled away by a knock on the door. Opening it, he laughed as Teddy launched at him, skinny arms wrapping around Harry’s neck. “Uncle Harry! Grandma says we get to spend today together.”

“We do!” Harry smile up at Andromeda. “Thank you, by the way. I know I asked last minute.”

Teddy squealed as he saw Grinch, darting over to look at the little owl, and Andromeda stepped in to give Harry a hug. “It’s not problem. It gives me some time to do a little last-minute shopping and wrapping.”

Harry winced. “You know, you can call me any time. I don’t mind. I know I get caught up with work and all, but.” Andromeda grabbed Harry’s hand, squeezing, and Harry swallowed. “I love spending time with Teddy. I’d like to spend more time with him. And you. And honestly, I probably need to take more time away from work to spend with family.”

“I agree on that last part. You’ve worked yourself far too hard over the last seven years, especially given how hard you worked the previous seven.” She smiled. “And Teddy and I love to see you. I haven’t asked so much lately because it’s felt like you, well, like you wanted the distance, needed it maybe. If that’s not the case anymore, I’m more than happy to give all the time with Teddy you’d like.”

Harry swallowed hard, coughing as he did, unable to meet her gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

Andromeda verified that she’d be there to pick Teddy up after dinner then hugged them both before leaving.

The two played board games and built houses from Legos all morning before deciding to go out for lunch. Bundling up, the sleet having turned to actual snow overnight, they headed out to their favorite fish and chips place, Teddy chattering the whole time about what he wanted for Christmas and how cousin Draco had taken him out to by grandma a present. Harry felt his face heat at that, knowing he hadn’t even done his own shopping, let alone thought of helping Teddy with his.

“Did you just buy for grandma?”

Teddy shook his head, speaking around a mouthful of greasy potatoes. “No, we bought your gift, too. And for Aunt Cissy.”

Harry reached out with a napkin to wipe Teddy’s face, face even hotter at the idea of Malfoy helping Teddy get him a gift. “Chew and swallow, kiddo. What about Mal— I mean, cousin Draco? You didn’t buy his gift in front of him, did you?”

Teddy made a show of finishing his bite before speaking again. “No, he said I didn’t have to get him something since he’d be at work on Christmas, but Grandma says I should.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll be at work part of Christmas, too, but you got for me. We should go get him, Draco, a gift, then. Before we go home.”

Teddy grinned and nodded wide, saying he knew exactly what to get. Shortly thereafter, they headed to the nearest safe apparition point and made their way to Diagon Alley. Holding tight to Teddy’s hand, Harry let the little boy lead him to Quality Quidditch Supplies. They found Draco’s gift pretty quickly but spent another half hour looking around at the newest quidditch supplies. Teddy was just starting to get interested in the sport, and he changed his hair to match every team jersey they passed, making Harry laugh and call him a Weasley when he changed his hair to orange for the Canons.

Once done, they stopped for a few roasted chestnuts and took the long way home, cutting through the park. Harry paused to throw away the wrapper from their chestnuts, but when he turned around, he was hit in the face with a snowball. Shaking his head and wiping away the snow, he faced a giggling Teddy, already armed with another snowball. Harry grinned back and dove to make his own snowball, Teddy pelting him again as he did.

They were both laughing and covered in snow, Harry taking longer than normal with making snowballs to give Teddy a more even chance, when he heard Teddy yell.

“Draco!”

Harry looked up in time to see the seven-year-old launch a snowball at a lanky figure in dark wool slacks and a heavy coat walking past the park.

“Teddy, no!” It was too late, though. The snowball hit its mark, smacking Draco in the side of the head. Harry froze as Draco stopped, head turning. His scarf was up around his mouth, hat pulled low, so it was impossible to tell his reaction. Just as Harry started to apologize for Teddy, Draco launched forward, tacking the little boy to the ground and tickling him, making Teddy squeal with laughter even though he probably couldn’t feel much through his thick jacket

“Throwing snowballs at unsuspecting people to get a hand up? How very Slytherin of you.”

Teddy squirmed away, laughing and grabbing another handful of snow to throw at Draco. The blond man ducked, making his own snowball to toss back. Harry stayed frozen until a snowball smacked him square in the face. Shaking his head, he looked at Teddy giggling, snowball still in hand, and Draco smirking. Smirking.

Harry felt himself grinning back, crouching down to grab a handful of snow, and the fight was on.

Snowballs flew every direction, Draco and Harry usually aiming for one another with Teddy throwing at whoever was closest.

Finally, Teddy launched himself at Draco’s legs but was too small to knock the man over. Giggling, he looked over at Harry, calling for help.

Without thinking, Harry lunged forward, tackling Draco to the ground and pinning the other man beneath him. The fell with a soft thump, Harry putting his hands out to catch his weight and keep from hurting the leaner man. He ended up with his arms bracketing the blond’s head, their faces close enough that Draco’s breath fogged Harry’s glasses. The same static that had filled Harry’s head when Draco touched his face came back, and he found himself forgetting that he was helping Teddy. Instead, he noticed how Draco’s eyes were a soft blue grey in the fading sunlight, how snowflakes clung to his lashes, the blond so pale that they were almost invisible, the way his lips parted as he panted from the exertion of their game.

Harry’s eyes were drawn to Draco’s lips, full and a deep pink from the cold. He swallowed hard as he felt the urge to kiss Draco and see if his lips were as soft as they looked. Before he could follow through with that urge, though, Teddy dove on top of them, dumping an armful over snow on them both.

Yelping as snow went down the back of his shirt, Harry rolled to the side, taking Teddy with him. Next to them Draco sat up, shaking snow from his hair and making the pale strands fall into his face. The streetlights coming on turned his hair silver, and Harry got caught up in looking at him until Teddy grabbed his face.

“I’m hungry again.”

Harry laughed, hugging his godson. “I’m not surprised. You ready to go home, then?”

Teddy nodded, and Draco cleared his throat. “I suppose I should be getting off, too.”

“What if you came along?” Harry realized he’d spoken aloud when Teddy cheered and Draco gaped at him. “I mean, if you’re hungry, too, and we’re all going home to eat, why not come eat with us?”

Teddy let go of Harry to hug Draco’s neck, begging, “Please, please, please.”

Harry watched the red of Draco’s cheeks deepen as he smiled and hugged the little boy. “I, uh, I mean, if you’re sure?”

Harry nodded and stood, brushing the snow off himself then holding his hand out to help Draco up. The other man paused for a moment, licking his lips as he stared at Harry’s hand, then reached out, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. They ended up each holding one of Teddy’s hands and swinging him between them every few steps.

Once back at Grimmauld place, Kreatcher already had shepherd’s pie in the oven, so Harry set the table and got everyone drinks while Draco helped Teddy out of his winter coat, gloves, and scarf. Remembering his thought from the night before, Harry poured himself and Draco glasses of wine rather than getting his usual beer.

Draco’s brows raised as Harry handed him the glass, gaze darting to the bottle. “Domaine de la Romanee-Conti? I wouldn’t have thought myself worth that.”

Harry looked from Draco back to the bottle and laughed. “I knew you’d know what it was.” His grin widened when Draco blushed. “I honestly don’t know much about wine, but I liked it.” He shrugged. “I’m learning to enjoy things I like, share them with people I like, rather than.” He trailed off, looking around his house. “Well, rather than just being unhappy, I suppose.”

Draco was quiet for a long moment, and Harry turned back to look at him. “I, uh, I wouldn’t have thought I was someone you’d like. Not after.” His face flushed, and he ducked, running a hand through his already mussed hair. “No matter. I’m glad you’re indulging a bit. You’ve earned a little happiness.”

His words cut off as Harry took his arm. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t think I’d like you.” Realizing how his words sounded, how they might be taken, hell, how he might be meaning them, Harry felt himself turn just as red as Draco. “I mean, we were both pawns in someone else’s war, just on different sides. It’s not like either of us had much choice in what we were told we had to do.” He dropped Draco’s arm, laughing without any real mirth behind it and stepped back to lean against the counter. “Innocents shouldn’t be punished for the plotting of others, right? We were innocents, just kids. I’d like to think who we really are, underneath all of that, is who we are now.”

He met Draco’s gaze, stunned to see moisture collecting in the in corners of his eyes. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he spoke. “How? How could you ever forgive me for what I did? What I helped do? How can Andromeda or Teddy when.” He stopped, voice cracking. “There are so many people missing because of me. People who should be here.”

Setting his glass aside, Harry stepped forward and took Draco by the arms. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Sirius would be alive if I’d opened a birthday present. If I’d known what was in there, that I could talk to him, he’d be alive. Instead, I led my friends into the Ministry and a trap. Hell, if he’d bothered to write and tell me, remind me to open it.” He shook Draco once, not enough to hurt or jar him but just enough to slosh the wine in the glass he still held. “He assumed I didn’t want to open it. He thought he was still on the outside, still a Black, that that kept him from being family, being loved. And he’s dead for it. Stop assuming, Draco. Stop thinking you’re only your family name or their expectations of you.”

Draco’s chest heaved, his breath shuddering out of him, and the fingers of his free hand reached out to clasp at Harry’s arm. The two of them were close, almost as close as they had been at the park. Close enough Harry could hear the click of Draco’s throat as he swallowed. Could feel their breathing start to sync. Feel the tension in their bodies bleed into the air and wind around them.

“Is dinner ready, yet?”

Harry’s head snapped around, but he kept his hold on Draco when the other man tried to jerk away. Teddy stood in the door, fidgeting. “Yeah, kiddo. It should be done. Did you wash your hands?” He nodded, and Harry released one of Draco’s arms, letting the other linger long enough to squeeze lightly. “Great. You and Draco go ahead and sit then. I’ll get it out and refill our glasses.”

“Where did these flowers come from?”

Harry blushed, portioning out pie for everyone, realizing he’d left the four vases and whatever note came along on the table that morning, having forgotten them completely during the day’s events. “They. Um. A friend?”

He set plates before everyone, and Teddy pointed to the purplish flowers. “What are those?”

“Other than flowers? Or blue? I have no idea.”

“Larkspur.” Draco seemed just as surprised as the other two that he’d spoken. “It’s. Mother has gardens with lots of flowers and such, so I’ve seen. They’re larkspur.”

Harry nodded as the other man’s stammering came to an end. “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

The rest of the night went smoothly, with them eating and then working on a puzzle until Andromeda arrived to get Teddy. If she seemed surprised to find Draco there, as well, she didn’t show it, simply reminded both men they were invited to Christmas dinner.

Draco put his coat on and collected his things as the others left. “Thank you, Potter. For dinner and, well, for everything.”

“It’s Harry.” He smiled, scrubbing his fingers through his hair, realizing he’d been using Draco’s given name all night, and not just for Teddy’s benefit. “And you’re welcome.”


	5. On the Fifth Day

A buzzing sound mixed with the flutter of wings woke Harry the next morning, and he groaned, not wanting to wake up, having enjoyed his weekend too much to want it to be over. The buzzing backed away but didn’t stop. In fact, it seemed to be darting around his room. Frowning, he rolled over and cracked open his eyes. He couldn’t place the sound, though, not with it moving and his vision blurry. Reaching for his glasses, he suddenly placed the sound.

“It’s a snitch.” Settling his glasses on his face, he saw he was right. Darting around his bedroom was a golden snitch. Harry laughed, grabbing his wand to silence his alarm before jumping up and chasing the little golden ball around the room. He was winded by the time he caught it, but he was still laughing, far happier about starting his Monday than he was before.

The second his hand wrapped around the little golden ball, it popped open. Inside was that day’s note.

_~~Potter~~ Harry_   
_Today, you will get five golden snitches, and each one will tell you something different. For instance, I know you hate mornings. You go running right after you get up on your days off in order to wake yourself up. You use coffee on the days you work. You’d rather stay in bed, but you’re too used to demands on your time, from growing up with so many chores to care for others and then school and now work. I wonder what you look like in the mornings. What that hair looks like in the morning. How it would feel to run my fingers through it as you stretch. The way your body would roll and arch under my fingers. I bet it’s beautiful._

Harry’s lips parted on panted breaths. His fingers going slack and releasing the gold ball he still clutched. His mind flashed back to Draco’s hair falling into his face the night before, the way it glimmered in the streetlights, how badly he’d wanted to brush it back out of his face. He suddenly wondered if it fell across his face like that in his sleep. Sucking in a hard breath, he shook his head, pretty sure that hadn’t been the thoughts his admirer expected. Still.

His mind continued to wander to blond strands that looked like silk, eyes that changed from silver to blue-grey depending on the lighting, questions of what color those eyes turned when aroused. If they went dark as the pupils blew wide or became paler as skin flushed.

Grinch landed on his shoulder as he made it downstairs, running late due to getting lost in his thoughts, so he used the floo rather than walking as he preferred. Draco was arriving as he did, hair perfectly coifed back off his face. Harry wanted to run his fingers through it, muss it up, and he blushed.

“Morning, Draco.” The other man raised a brow as they crossed the atrium, and Harry was beginning to realize that was a defensive mechanism, more to buy himself time to think or goad the other person into speaking first. He decided to give the man what he wanted and continue speaking. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m at work, Potter. And far less chipper than you.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Usually you’re more chipper. You’re far more a morning person than I am.”

Draco snorted. “Potter, bats are more morning people than you.”

Laughing harder, Harry bumped his shoulder into Draco’s as the entered the lift, it packed at this time so the ended up squeezed together to one side. “I won’t argue that. I’m keeping at least one coffee shop in business.”

Draco merely nodded, and Harry realized Draco was attempting to keep as much space as possible between them, even though he didn’t step near anyone else. Harry’s brows dropped, head tilting as he analyzed why. He saw the man behind them shuffle back when the lift jerked, the sway making Draco bump into him. Draco’s face never changed, but his body did dense. Realizing that he probably assumed Harry didn’t want to be closely associated with him, knowing some of the people in other departments still held his childhood against him, he was once again giving Harry an out.

Not liking that in the slightest, Harry shifted, bumping Draco again. “Last night was fun, by the way. We should do it again sometime.” It felt like the air was sucked out of the elevator, and Draco said nothing, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Grinch hooted and hopped over to Draco’s shoulder. “I know Teddy enjoyed it, too, and we are all family. Maybe we could do something else with him before Christmas. Oh, you were right, by the way. They were larkspur. Turns out, it’s the flower of my birthday month. Sunflowers are for Leos, too.”

“I don’t believe you and I have a day off together, Potter.” The posh accents were back in Draco’s voice, punctuating every syllable.

“Harry. I told you. Call me Harry.” The lift came to a stop on their floor, and he stepped to one side, hand on the door to keep it open, and motioned Draco out. “I’ll let you know the next time I have him, see if you’d like to come to dinner again.”

Draco all but growled as he stormed down the hall toward the potions area, and Harry grinned as he headed to his office, his owl landing back on his shoulder as he opened the door.

Inside was another snitch, and Harry sent Grinch over to his tree before closing the door and chasing down the flying ball. He dropped into his chair, not even looking at his inbox to check for messages before opening the parchment.

_Harry_   
_By this time, you’ll usually be on your second, if not third, cup of coffee and be feeling a bit better. I just wanted to remind you to smile, and not just because I enjoy your smile so much. I want you to remember how important you are, for what you do, yes, but for even more than that. You are valued, and you deserve to smile._

For the first time in a long time, Harry smiled for most of the morning, even sending Grinch over to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to has Ron for lunch. The third snitch was there when he got back from that, and he spared a moment to wonder again how someone kept getting in and out of the locked office before unfurling the letter.

_~~Harry~~ Potter_   
_I still remember the first time I saw you actually catch a snitch, and I do so hope you’re using your hands and not your mouth for these. Still, that was the first time I wanted to play quidditch, wanted to be part of something so amazing, just for myself and my own interest and not to prove my worth to my family. I spent my entire summer devoted to quidditch, practicing all I could, so that I was good enough to make the team. My house was incredibly competitive. Every game I played, I looked for you, wanted to see if I’d impressed you like I wanted._

Harry chewed his lip, leaning back in his chair and adding this note to everything else he’d learned about his admirer. “Grinch. Note?” The owl looked up from where he was pecking at this food, quickly flying over as Harry scribbled a note, asking what position the other man played. The response came quickly.

_No._

Harry laughed aloud, responding right away:  
 _I want to assume you played Seeker, since I’m your inspiration, but you mentioned a competitive house, making me wonder if you were also Gryffindor. It might depend on if you’re older, younger, or in my same year._

He snorted when Grinch returned with the answer, if it could be called that.

_I’m older, and I will never let you forget it. I’m taller, too._

Harry grinned, sending Grinch out one last time before getting ready to leave:  
 _Bit of a cheeky git, aren’t you? And I’ve discovered that I enjoy taller men. And a bit of cheek, apparently._

Grinch came back as Harry locked up. No note. Harry just laughed again, petting the little bird and heading home. He was disappointed that he didn’t see Draco on his way out.

The fourth snitch darted past his head as soon as he entered the house. Pausing long enough to check that Grinch had food and water, Harry then gave chase, following the flittering wings up the stairs, around his bedroom, then into his bathroom. He slammed the door to keep it in and came to a halt. The large clawfoot tub was filled with steaming water, scented with sandalwood jasmine. Next to the tub was a tray with cheese, crackers, meat, and fruit and another glass of what he assumed was that fancy wine from a few days before. Harry stripped and was almost in the tub when the snitch smacked him in the face, reminding him he’d been chasing it. His hand flew out as it bounced off his glass, snagging it out of the air and opening it as he climbed into the tub.

He groaned as the warm water enveloped his body, relaxing his muscles. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back, letting himself breath in the sweet musk of his bath. Once he’d sat for a while, he looked at the note.

_Potter_   
_I remember the Tri-Wizard Tournament and that second task. I was so scared when everyone came up, and you didn’t. I’d been sure you’d have been first, though I claimed you’d fail for sure. When you finally popped up, Ron and the little girl with you, I cheered myself hoarse. I told my friends it was because it wouldn’t do for our school to look bad compared to the others, but I was just so damn happy to see you alive. That’s when I knew what I felt for you was more than simple infatuation._

Harry crumpled the note in his fist and let it fall to the floor next to the tub. He didn’t often think back to the Tournament. When he did, it was always the last test. The graveyard. Cedric’s death. Now, though, he remembered that second round. How he’d worried he wouldn’t make it before the gillyweed ran out. The excitement of his head clearing the top of the water. The way the crowd had cheered when they saw him, then cheered even louder at the announcement of the scores. He’d been proud of himself. He’d thought he maybe had a chance to win, and winning was still something good. So much of his life was about good things turning bad. Gaining a godfather just to watch him die. Joining the quidditch team only to be attacked on the field repeatedly. Dating Cho only to piss her off. It was nice to think back on the good times without the spoil of bad, to think of someone watching him with these kinds of feelings.

Harry let his mind drift over all the different men he’d gone to school with, narrowing them down to quidditch players who worked on his floor, but his mind kept going back to the same one. He grinned at how he’d managed to shock and flush Draco that morning, but he’d meant what he said. He did enjoy the time with him, and he wasn’t ashamed to be friends.

He took his time in the tub, lingering over the food and wine before washing, enjoying how the water had been charmed to stay warm no matter how long he stayed in. Once out, he wandered back to his bedroom with just a towel wrapped around him. And there was the fifth snitch, darting around his bed. He dove forward, grabbing it before it could get far and falling into the bed.

_Harry_   
_Bed was always the one place I could never escape my thoughts of you. In class or on the quidditch field, I had distractions. In bed, though, there you were. Your still there. I wonder if my hands would tangle in that damnable hair of yours. I want my hands tangled in it. Your lower lip is a little fuller than your top, and I imagine the way it would feel against mine, if it would slot between mine when we kissed._

Harry sucked his lower lip into his mouth and bite hard, body achingly hard, especially with how relaxing his bath had been.

_Your hands are always calloused, and I want them against my skin, want to have that rough scrape against the softest places of me._

He wrapped his hand around his length, feeling the same callouses mentioned in the note, wondering how a smoother hand would feel. One with long, tapered fingers that ended in carefully manicured nails. Shuddering, he twisted on each upstroke. 

_You’re a bit shorter than I, and were I to tilt my head back and pull you against me, your face would be right against my pulse, that place where my neck meets my shoulder. I want you to bite me there. Want your teeth to mark me where it would show the next day, so everyone would know I was yours. I am, you know. Yours._

Harry came with a groan, teeth clenching, imagining a long, pale throat between them, the hitch of breath he’d heard this morning when he reminded Draco to call him Harry. He wanted to hear that voice moan his name. Moan the word yours.


	6. On the Sixth Day

Harry’s morning was uneventful, as far as mornings had been going. No snitches fluttered around his head when he awoke. There were no flowers on the table, other than the lilies. The sunflowers had been moved to the living room, the roses were in his office, and the larkspurs were next to his bed. He floo’d to work and did not dally around the atrium for an extra five minutes hoping to see a flash of blond hair. And when he stopped by the potions lab to see how things were, he was not disappointed to find out that Draco had the day off.

He spent his morning in and out of the office, accompanying small groups of Aurors to various stores on Diagon and Knockturn Alley in order to calm angry groups of parents who had attempted to purchase their children gifts, not always through legal channels, that had yet to arrive. By lunch, he’d been punched in the side of the head and had two Stinging Hexes sent at his back for telling people they were not allowed to duel shopkeepers for not having the correct lifelike baby doll.

“Honestly, the ones ripped off by scalpers were nicer.”

Susan Bones laughed and shoved him as they returned from the latest fight to break out over who got the last limited-edition bit of mistletoe from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It was charmed to follow the owner around so that anyone they came near would be “required” to kiss them. “You’re just mad because both women offered to demonstrate how it worked on you.”

“I’m mad because one drooled all over half my face in an attempt to do just that,” he muttered, shaking his head, but she just laughed harder and walked off. Harry lifted the edge of his robe to scrub at his face once more, as he unlocked his door. Ron had offered to bring over chicken masala and naan for lunch, and Harry wanted to straighten up after Grinch before he arrived. The little bird was always getting into things, strewing quills across the floor, batting around pieces of paper. Honestly, it was like having a cat with wings most days.

He stepped inside and hung his robes, turning to greet the menace in question, when he noticed a long, thin wrapped package. A suspiciously broom shaped package.

Hands shaking, Harry walked over and lifted the note from the package.

_Potter_   
_While I am no Sirius Black, though we were cousins through marriage, I still hope you will accept this. You’ve not played as much quidditch lately, but it did used to bring you joy._   
_Yours_

Harry sat on the edge of the desk as he skimmed the short note again. His Firebolt had been a Christmas gift from his godfather, so to have another broom at this time of year turned something over deep in his belly. And to be opening it with Ron again, as he’d be there any minute. Harry laughed, remembering how Ron had been almost more excited than he over than Firebolt. 

As if on cue, the redhead in question barged through the door, apologizing for being a bit late, but he’d sent food home to Hermione. He stopped and looked from the broom to Harry then back, grinning, “Awww, mate, you shouldn’t have.”

Harry gave him the finger, laughing, “Good, because I didn’t. This is apparently for me.” Both Ron’s brows went up, and Harry shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Early Christmas gift, it seems.”

“It seems, huh? Apparently for you? Can we be any more vague?”

Harry flipped him off again, tucking the note into his pocket. “Yeah, if I tried, I’m sure I could.” He walked around his desk, motioning for Ron to sit, and reached for the string holding the package closed.

“You got an owl? I thought you refused to get an owl.” Ron froze as he started to set the food down, apparently realizing what he’d just brought up. “I mean, I’m glad you’ve… Uh. He seems cute?”

Harry smiled, nose wrinkling as he nodded. “I know. He was a gift, too.”

Ron snorted, “From who? I know everything you’re getting on our side, and you won’t have that ‘til Christmas Eve.”

“Well…” The wrapping fell from the broom, and Harry lost his train of thought. It was a Firebolt 6000. The newest model. The one that didn’t come out for another six months. And emblazed on the handle in gold script was H. Potter with the R turning into a phoenix.

Ron whistled through his teeth. “Damn. Whoever your secret Santa is, hook me up?”

Harry felt a rush of longing along with a twinge of jealousy at the idea of anyone hooking up with this secret person, but he promptly squelched that since he didn’t know who the person in question even was. And really, how could he be jealous over someone he only knew through gifts? And notes? Wonderful notes full of understanding and secrets that made him ache for…someone? And wasn’t that really the problem? He wanted someone he didn’t know and was also starting to want someone he did know but was pretty sure he couldn’t have.

Ron snapped in his face, making him jump. “Sorry. I’m guessing you’ve been speaking.”

“For about five minutes, actually.” Ron laughed and handed him his takeout container. “You like this person, huh?” He cleared his throat. “You know, you can tell me, tell all of us, who it, who he, is. We won’t judge or anything.”

Harry blushed, taking his box of food and then running his fingers over the handle of the broom. “I know you wouldn’t, Ron. It’s, I don’t know, complicated?”

Ron nodded. “Well, if it gets uncomplicated, just let me know. Bring him by the Burrow. Well, maybe bring him by mine and ‘Mione’s first. Merlin knows anyone would need a little easing into the chaos of the whole of us.” He laughed, and Harry grinned, something tight in his chest relaxing at how calm his friend was about the whole situation.

Nodding, Harry set the broom aside to keep it safe. “Yeah, of course. I hope…I hope I can soon.”

…

That day after work, Ron once again met Harry in his office. Unable to resist the pull of his new broom, Harry had sent out an interoffice memo setting up a pickup quidditch match. He and Ron were shoving each other back and forth, trash talking one another about how the game would go, when Draco stepped out of his office.

Harry came to a sudden halt, Ron walking several paces beyond him before he realized the other man had stopped. Ron turned to look back at him, worry lines between his brows.

“Draco! I thought you were off today?”

Ron’s brow went from dropped over his eyes in concern to lifted almost to his hairline, gaze moving between Harry and the blond before his eyes narrowed.

Harry could feel himself grow red, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean. Well, yeah, no, I thought you were off today.”

Draco cleared his throat, straightening his pale green tie so it fell perfectly down the middle of his black button-up. “Yes, well, as I said last time. I have a special project going that needing checking on.” He nodded to Ron. “Weasley. How are you and yours?”

If Ron was surprised to be addressed by Draco Malfoy, he hid it well. “We’re good. Louder than ever with all the kids running around, now.”

Draco smiled softly, “Yes, three of your older brothers have children, now, do they not.”

Nodding, Ron leaned back against the all, ticking them off on his fingers. “Bill and Fleur have two, now, George and Ang have one, and Percy just finalized his adoption of a pair of siblings with Oliver.”

“Percy and Oliver, huh?” Draco looked over at Harry. “So, two of your exes are now Weasley’s?”

Harry grimaced, shoulders squeezing up around his ears, as Ron started to laugh. “Um, three actually. Cho and Ginny started dating earlier this year.”

“I’m impressed, Potter. You took family dedication seriously, did you not? Even my family isn’t that bad, and we’ve been inbreeding for generations.”

Ron started sliding down the wall as he laughed even harder, and Harry shoved Draco. “Oi, shut it! I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen.”

Draco’s lips twitched, as if he were fighting a smile, and Harry felt that same urge to kiss him again.

Ron tapped Draco’s arm with the back of one hand, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes with the other. “We’re going to play some quidditch with Bones, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, Alicia, Lee, and Davies. George is thinking of coming, but he needed to check with Ang, first.” He shrugged, “Apparently, it’s not so nice to leave your spouse home with a new baby without warning.”

“Can’t imagine that would be.” Draco’s words are drawn out slowly, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure why Ron was telling him this, and honestly, Harry was just as confused.

“You should come play. Help us put this one’s ego back in it’s place.” He shoved Harry in the side of the head, and Harry elbowed him, the two quickly dissolving into a wrestling match.

Draco dodged out of the way. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, but I appreciate the ask.”

“Why not?” Harry stopped wrestling with Ron to look up a Draco. “We’d need an extra man anyways, and you’ve always been good.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open for a moment before he responded. “Didn’t think you’d noticed, Potter.”

“Of course, I noticed.” Harry shrugged, not looking at Ron as they straightened. “I mean, we played against one another, so it was hard not to realize you had talent. And I told you, call me Harry.”

Ron coughed next to him. “He’s got a point. And you’re more than welcome.”

Harry could have kissed Ron. He grinned at Draco instead. “Come on, Draco. Please?” Harry couldn’t be sure if it was Ron’s acceptance or his please, both of which seemed to render Draco speechless, but he nodded.

“Let me get my broom. Would either of you mind if I asked the other potioneers? A few more are off, now.”

Harry and Ron nodded, waiting the few moments it took for Draco to return with Theo Nott and Gwenog Cadwallader, a Hufflepuff Chaser from their Hogwarts days. The three of them walked ahead, and Harry ran his hand over his hair, trying to flatten it out. Ron snorted and elbowed him, grinning.

“What?”

He just shook his head.

When the reached the Ministry pitch, the others were already there, George included. Since there were only twelve of them, they decided to play without seekers, Harry and Draco ending up Chasers on the same team. Within minutes of starting the game, it became obvious they were the force to beat. They flew in sync, years of flying against each other letting them know how the other moved, when to dodge the other’s dive.

Two hours later, the first patronus arrived, telling George he was needed at home. Lee stepped away after that to keep things even, going back to announcing, this time with no McGonagall to silence him for yelling curse words as he called plays.

Another hour passed and a familiar otter arrived for Ron, Davies and Cadwallader also leaving since they had early days. Alicia bowed out then, too, sitting with Lee to watch the rest play. The last of them played three on three for almost another hour before Boot and Bones bowed out.

“It’s useless against you guys without a beater.” Bones shook sweaty hair out of her face. “The two of you are unstoppable. Good to know you’ve got a backup career if you decide Ministry work isn’t for you anymore.”

Harry blushed, landing next to Draco and Nott. “I suppose we were pretty good, huh?”

Nott scoffed and walked away, broom over his shoulder. Draco glared at him, kicking the heel of one shoe against the ground. “Ignore him.”

“I honestly don’t know that he’s ever spoken to me, so that’s not too hard.” Harry looked at Draco, tie discarded, shirt unbuttoned the top few, sweat making it cling to the narrow planes of his chest, his pulse pounding against the hollow of his throat. Harry wondered what that hollow would taste like. If he’d be able to feel Draco’s pulse against his tongue. He cleared his throat as he realized he was starring, turning to look back where Lee and Alicia were still chatting. “So, yeah.”

“Eloquent as always, Potter.”

“Harry.” His head snapped around, eyes narrowed, not sure why Draco refused to use his given name. That damned brow lifted again, and Harry crowded into Draco’s space before he could respond with his usual snark and sass. “Call me Harry.” Draco’s eyes went wide, pupils dilating, and Harry realized they were both breathing far too hard for having stopped flying several minutes ago. “Call me Harry, Draco.”

“Why? Why is it so important to you?” Draco’s voice was soft, hoarse, pitched so low Harry couldn’t have heard him had he not been so close.

Harry didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know why, but he _needed_ this. “Say my name, Draco.”

It took two tries for Draco to swallow, Harry’s gaze glued to the bob of his Adam’s apple, and he whispered, “Harry.”

Harry’s lips parted, and he started to lean forward.

“Hey!” Terry Boot stepped into them, throwing an arm around each of their necks. “We’re all going to pub for a beer and some food. You guys wanna come?”

Draco stepped back, shaking his head. “No. I’ve already been away longer than I intended.” He nodded a bit stiffly at everyone and turned to leave.

“Draco.” He stopped at Harry’s call, glancing back over his shoulder. “Thank you.”


	7. On the Seventh Day

Harry was off that Wednesday and planned to finally go Christmas shopping. He left Grinch at home, as the little owl had taken to following Kreatcher around the house and dropping random items for him to pick up. Floo’ing into Diagon Alley, he pulled his scarf tighter around his face and headed for his first stop: Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. It didn’t matter that it was cold. His ritual was stopping for a chocolate and raspberry cone, like Hagrid had purchased him, before he started his shopping, the sugary treat helping him stay in a good mood when dealing with the rush of the season. When he ordered and paid, though, he was handed a small package along with his change.

“What is this? Some holiday extra?”

The woman behind the counter smiled and shook her head, “No. It was left here in expectation of you.”

More than a little confused, Harry collected his package and ice cream then went to sit down. “There’s no way he…” But when he opened the package, there were a pair of black socks with gold lightning bolts decorating them and a note.

_Harry_   
_I knew this would be your first stop, so this is where your note is. Throughout the day, you will be handed random packages, seven in total, at the different shops you visit. Each package will represent a different year at Hogwarts. I make no promises that they will be in order, but I do hope they all make sense once collected. Enjoy your shopping and be sure to stop by the last stall on the left before you reach Knockturn. The witch there has a coffee and gingerbread cake that you will love._   
_Yours_

Harry was grinning by the time he finished the note, both at how this person found a new way to show how well he knew him each day and at having another treat to look forward to. Well, seven treats, really. Harry double checked his shopping list as he finished his ice cream before heading out to Gringotts and then Flourish and Blotts for Hermione’s gift. While there, he was given a second package with more socks, these decorated in various magical creatures, like hippogriffs, thestrals, and nifflers. Next was Twilfitt and Tattings for both Andromeda and Molly and his third pair of socks, these with snitches all over them. At Quality Quidditch Supplies, he picked up Ron’s gift and a pair of socks with Ford Angelia’s all over them, making him laugh hard enough several patrons turned to look at him. The socks at Eyelop’s Owl Emporium, because Grinch needed a gift just as much as anyone else, he had socks with mermaids and dragons. And at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the socks had fireworks. However, when he popped into the Apothecary store, there was no package.

He saved his favorite shop for last: The Broom Shop for Teddy’s gift. He’d spoken with Andromeda about Teddy expressing interest in flying, and she’d agreed to let him buy his godson’s first broom. Knowing he was doing for Teddy what Sirius did for him was more gift than anything she could purchase. While scanning the brooms made for young learners, he bumped into Draco.

Draco smiled over at him. “Still not looking where you’re going?”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, I guess I just keep getting caught up in my head. Not the best habit for an Auror, huh?”

Draco laughed and shook his head. “No, but I suppose you’re just as excited about Teddy’s gift as he will be.” Harry paused for a moment, realizing both of them were in the children’s broom section and both planned to buy for Teddy. Before he could speak, Draco touched his arm. “Relax, Pot—” he cleared his throat. “Relax, Harry. I know how important it is to you to get him a broom. I wouldn’t take that from you. I’m looking for a learner’s cleaning kit to compliment it.” Harry smiled, head tilted to the side, and Draco flushed, looking down and away. “Mother always said that it was custom in the Black family for a godfather to buy the first broom.”

Harry bit his lip, brain whirling as clues he’d been afraid to hope fit together started to fall into place. “That’s right. You were related to Sirius. Nephew? No, not if Andromeda is your aunt.”

“First cousin once removed.” He smirked. “Pureblood families have to know these things.”

He grinned. They were cousins. “Right, right. All that inbreeding you mentioned.”

“Snobbery does come with a price. Marrying your cousin. Children with extra toes. Following the Lord of the Idiots into battle.”

Harry snorted with laughter at Draco’s deadpan, looking over to catch the other man grinning back at him. He bumped their shoulders. “Come on. Let’s pick our gifts. Are you on lunch or off for the day?”

“Lunch break, though I’m taking a bit of a long one in order to have time for this purchase.”

Harry lifted a heavier broom that boasted balance and good braking, Teddy having inherited his mother’s tendency for klutziness as well as being a metamorphmagus.

Draco leaned over Harry’s shoulder, breath ghosting over his neck for a brief moment and sending chills down his arms. “Does it come with a seatbelt?”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “No, but it does limit how high the flyer can go.” Draco nodded in approval before getting the correlating cleaning and storage kits, the two heading up front to check out. “Since you’re on your lunch break, did you want to get food together?”

“Your ice cream already run out?”

Harry started to ask how Draco knew he always stopped for ice cream but stopped himself and just nodded. Of course, Draco knew. “It’s been a few hours since then.”

Draco hesitated, and Harry began to wonder how he could convince him to agree. “I suppose, yes. If you’re sure?”

Biting his lip, Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Upon check out, Harry got another package of socks, and he did a quick inventory. “Yeah, that’s seven.” Opening the package, he laughed when he saw the potions-themed socks. “Perfect for opening with you, huh?”

The other man simply blushed and shrugged, following Harry to the sandwich shop recently added to the Alley. They ordered and sat at a small table toward the back, where they would see everyone come and go.

“So what are you plans for the holidays? Other than work.” He smiled over at Draco, honestly curious as to what the other man did. He knew Draco had moved out of the Manor as soon as his house arrest ended, but his parents still lived there.

Draco cleared his throat, tracing a swirl on the Formica tabletop with one finger. “I really only plan on working. I send Teddy’s gifts over by owl so he can open them on Christmas day.”

Harry frowned. “You don’t work all Christmas day. Do you visit your parents, then?”

“Like hell I do.” He face flushed red, then he sighed and shook his head. “I love my mother, and I do my best to spend time with her, even though that house still gives me nightmares, but my father.” He shook his head. “My father put love of blood above love of blood, if that makes sense.” Harry nodded, and Draco continued, somewhat hesitantly. “I’m tired of defending myself to him. Defending why I refuse to further the pureblood agenda, or any other of his agendas. Defending being gay, having an actual job, reconnecting with Andromeda and Teddy, the people I spend time with.”

Harry reached out and grabbed Draco’s hand, squeezing as the other man’s rant came to a sudden halt. “There’s nothing wrong with any of that. It’s easy, when you’ve heard something your whole life, to believe it. And especially when you’ve heard so much of how you disappoint someone you wanted to impress, that you grew up wanting to make happy, make love you.” His thumb rubbed over the back of Draco’s hand, knowing he spent a long time trying to keep Vernon and Petunia happy, probably would have spent even longer caught up in their opinion had he not found a real home in Hogwarts. Draco, though, never had that. “You’re not a disappointment, though. Honestly, with what you’ve overcome, you’re one of the strongest people I know. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing with your life or with you.”

Draco stared, lower lip quivering a bit. “How? How do you always manage to get to the core of me, Potter?”

“Harry.” Smiling, he laced his fingers with Draco. “And I guess we just have a special bond after all we’ve been through. I guess we’re just something special.”

Their lunch continued with quiet conversation about their time at Hogwarts and growing up, hands brushing throughout, feet and knees pressed together under the table.

“It was exceedingly lonely to be Draco Malfoy. Everyone was supposed to be pawn, someone to use. Makes it a bit hard to have true friends and people you can trust.”

“I swear, I was just as shocked as everyone else when I spoke Parseltongue. I didn’t even know it was a thing until Hermione explained. Of course, there’s a lot of things I didn’t know until Hermione explained them”

“I joined the Inquisition Squad because I was a prat. That’s all there is to that. I wanted to get under your skin.”

“I did have a secret for getting around undetected, gift from my father and his friends during their time at Hogwarts. I’ll have to show the next time you’re over.”

“I swear, the day you told Snape not to call you sir. I’m pretty sure I gave myself a hernia trying not to laugh.”

When they parted, Draco leaned into Harry’s side for a moment, “Lunch again tomorrow?”

Nodding, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco’s one last time, “Of course.”

That night, after wrapping his gifts and dinning on leftovers and the last of his fancy wine, Harry went to bed in his potions socks. He couldn’t help thinking about his admirer, their notes, the clues. Someone who was with him in school, all seven years to have been able to plan those socks. And even the idea of getting him socks, that bond with Dobby. They worked with him, knew when he’d be shopping. Were cousins with Sirius. He fell asleep smiling, thoughts of soft smiles, soft grey eyes, and soft touches filling his mind.


	8. On the Eighth Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry to be a day behind! My family is an eight-hour drive from where I live, and between packing and the trip, I wasn't able to finish on time. Here is day eight, though, and I will continue with day nine tomorrow. Thank you all for reading and your patience!!

Grinch woke Harry by hopping around on his pillow and nipping at his ear.

“I swear to Merlin, if you’re not telling me the house is on fire, I’m sending you back to who sent you.” Rolling over, he cracked one eye, Grinch promptly sticking his foot in it to show off that he had a letter. “You’re kidding. This couldn’t wait?” He rolled over, Grinch squawking loudly at his letter being ignored, and used is wand to cast tempus. “Fifteen minutes? I couldn’t have fifteen minutes?” Grinch flew over his head, nipped him on the nose, and shoved his foot back into Harry’s face. “No, huh? Fine.”

Harry took the letter and slid his glasses on.

_Harry_   
_I know how much you care for others, how important family is to you, and the Weasleys were your first real family. Today, I am making eight donations in Fred’s name, each for 1,000 galleons:_   
_Muggle Protection Act for Arthur_   
_Celestina Warbeck Foundation for Molly_   
_Werewolf Aid, Support, and Protection for Bill_   
_Dragon Defense and Protection Foundation for Charlie_   
_Wizarding Pride Project for Percy_   
_Wizarding War Memorial for George_   
_Magical Mental Maladies for Ron_   
_Quidditch for Healing Foundation for Ginny_   
_Yours_

Harry didn’t realize he was crying until his tears falling on the sheet of paper blurred the words. Allowing his head to drop forward, he pressed the letter to his face and cried until he couldn’t anymore. It wasn’t often he let himself cry over the war and all it had cost. He always worried that if he did, if he let himself fall apart with grief and guilt, that he’d never get put back together. Instead, he’d thrown himself into his work, hoping to make the world safe enough now to make up for what he couldn’t stop then.

He’d also distanced himself because of that. From the Weasleys, afraid they would only see the empty space at the table. From Andromeda and Teddy, worried he would just be a reminder of the child and parents that weren’t there. From his friends, scared seeing him would just bring flashbacks of flying curses and cold tents.

He missed them, though. Missed the birthdays he bowed out of early. The Christmases and holidays he worked. The weekly dinners he said no to. Missed the warmth and laughter and grief that was family and healing. More so, he deserved that. Just as he’d said to Draco, he’d been a pawn, forced into a war he didn’t start, and the blame for it all was not on him, even though he’d been shouldering it for years.

He dried his face on the edge of his sheet, smiling as he realized Grinch was standing on his shoulder and leaning into the side of his head and hooting softly. Reaching up, he patted the little bird. “Thank you. You were right. That couldn’t wait.” 

Harry was smiling when he arrived at work, and even though he was sent back out to the Alleys at least a dozen times throughout the day, working through his lunch break, he continued to smile. Furthermore, it seemed as if each of the scrimmages with angry parents and panicked shoppers seemed to go more smoothly, end with less fuss and fight.

By the time he finished work that night, two hours after he was supposed to be off, he was starving and his whole body hurt. He also had a stack of letters on his desk from Weasleys.

_I got an acid pop with a note about Fred once tricking the entire incoming group of first-year Slytherins into them before yelling “in Ron’s memory.” Is that from you?_

_Hey, a package including our Wildfire Wiz-bangs arrived, exploded in the middle of the shop to spell out Gotcha!, then shot me with a Tarentallegra. Best bit of magic I’ve seen in ages. Tell me you did it, so you can tell me how._

_A story about Fred marching up and down the Slytherin corridors playing trumpet really horribly and inspiring at least three of the actual house members to learn to play it well in order to outdo him showed up at my house this afternoon, but when he touched it, Oliver was hit with a Furnunculus that we can’t get undone. Mum says you might know something._

_A dozen roses arrived this afternoon with a note about how Fred and George were always able to make people smile, no matter what was going on, and thanking me for doing so well with all my children. An owl arrived shortly after that, thanking my family for their donation to Celestina’s foundation in Fred’s name. Do you know what’s happening? Harry, dear, this is wonderful, but you didn’t need to do this. We love you._

Harry smiled, wiping his eyes as he was crying again, and set the notes aside, minus Molly. Scribbling back that it wasn’t him but he could pass the message on, he then asked for a favor. _I know it’s last minute, but it’s important. He’s important._ He attached the note to Grinch and sent him off then changed from his Auror robes to his regular coat and went in search of Draco.

He found the blond man leaned over a cauldron the was billowing thick green and purple smoke and making the entire room smell like old cabbage and lavender.

“I can feel you lurking, Potter.”

“I’d think you were talking to me, but my name’s Harry.” He grinned as Draco shot him a scathing look, lip sneered up as his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want to interrupt. And what is that? It’s awful.”

Draco waved his wand, enclosing the cauldron in a bubble, and stepped back. “It’s sort of like an extra-strength dungbomb, but it’s meant to also fill the space with fumes that mimic the Swelling Solution. I got the idea from a muggle Auror show I’ve been watching. It would effectively incapacitate a room full suspects without doing any lasting damage.”

Harry grinned. “Cops. Muggle Aurors are called cops. How long do you think you’ll be here on that?”

“Well, until my shift is done would be the obvious answer.” Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco fidgeted, plucking at the cuffs of his shirt. “I’ve got at least another hour before I even go to lunch. Maybe more.”

Harry nodded. “Great. I’ll be back, then.”

“What do you mean? Potter? Harry!”

Laughing, Harry continued his exit from the room, heading to the Indian place he knew Draco frequented. He was back almost exactly an hour later and poked his head inside the door. “Is this room food safe? I know the whole don’t bring food near the cauldrons things is a rule you guys play fast and loose with, but I figured I’d ask.”

Draco looked up, three other potioneers now in the room with him. “It’s. No. Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Whatever.”

“Nope, still Harry. I’ll just meet you in your office. I’ve got tandoori chicken and tikka masala.” Harry walked over to Draco’s office, using a quick wandless spell to unlock and open the door.  
He had just set out all the food and drinks when Draco barged in.

“What’s the meaning of this, Potter?”

“Harry. You’ve got the worst memory. How are you able to make potions the way you do?”

“The same way you can be an Auror when you keep getting lost in your own head and walking into me.”

Harry grinned and toasted him with a piece of naan before digging into his takeout container. “I figured you were hungry, if this was when your lunch would be. And I haven’t eaten other than some form of meat on a stick while running down Diagon Alley. Thought we’d eat together.”

“Eat together?”

“Yeah.”

“Just because?”

“Yep.”

“You and me?”

“Yes.”

Harry smiled as Draco just gaped at him from the doorway. Waving his hand, Harry slammed the door, the close of it smacking Draco in the ass and jolting him into the room. “Come on in. Get comfortable. Pull up a plate.”

“This is my office, not yours,” Draco grouched, but he crossed the room and sat.

Harry looked around at the scatter stacks of paper, the half-empty cups of tea, and the trashcan full of old to-go boxes. “Yeah, no, mine is much neater.”

“Fuck you.” Draco spoke around a mouthful of rice and masala. “I can find anything I need. Who cares if others can’t?” He swallowed and pointed at the door. “That was wordless.”

“And wandless. Been practicing more and more of that, in case it ever comes in handy on a mission.” Harry shrugged. “Aurors do a lot of wordless practice, sneak attack sort of thing, and most of us can do basic wandless work, summon our wands back, but I thought, what good is that if you’re still being attacked from all sides? Or there’s two, and one takes the wand while the other fires some hex at you? But I can’t push to have others do what I can’t. I started with simpler things, like levitation and opening and closing doors, the kind of first-year stuff we learned in school.”

“So, you can wandlessly and wordlessly summon things to you and close doors?” Draco’s voice was a bit hoarse, and Harry felt his lower body jump, remembering the last time he’d made Draco sound like that.

He flicked his fingers, the snick of the door audible in the sudden quiet of the room. “And lock things.” Harry wouldn’t have noticed the faint tremor that ran though Draco had he not been watching him so closely, but satisfaction bloomed deep his belly, making him bite back a groan. “Tell me about this new project of yours. Is this the one you mentioned before? It’s ingenious.”

They ended up chatting about Draco’s current pet project while also running possibilities for his second project idea.

“Blinding Lumos, sun in a jar kind of thing. Some buff vampire show did it.”

“I didn’t think vampires were real.”

“That’s not the point, Harry.”

When Draco’s wand buzzed to let him know his lunch hour was up, he and Harry both jumped, having not thought that much time had passed.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Draco never looked up from where he was clearing up his trash. “I’m off tomorrow.” Harry wondered if he’d somehow been wrong about the signs when he continued. “You could come by mine, though. After work. I mean, I sort of owe you dinner, right?”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and smiled. “That sounds great.” He tossed his trash into the can and waved his hand, unlocking the door and letting it open. When Draco’s breath hitched, his smiled widened. “Oh, by the way, do you know a way to get rid of Furnunculus when Finite Incantatem and the usual creams won’t work? Apparently, Oliver annoyed someone who can create super solutions.” Draco’s eyes rounded, face suddenly paler than normal. “Let me know if you do. I’ll pass it on. See you tomorrow night.” Grinning, Harry waved and headed home.


	9. On the Ninth Day

When Harry headed downstairs for breakfast the next morning, he found two notes sitting on the kitchen table. One from Percy, saying the solution for the acne issue arrived the previous night, and the other from his love.

_Harry_   
_Your journey finding family started with Weasleys, but it expanded to include so much more. Today’s donations are 2,000 galleons for each of the following:_   
_House Elf Freedom Act for Dobby_   
_Werewolf Aid, Support, and Protection for Remus and Tonks_   
_Wizarding War Memorial for Lily and Hedwig_   
_Magical Mental Maladies for Sirius and Moody_   
_Quidditch for Healing Foundation for James and Cedric_   
_Yours_

Looking up, Harry’s gaze skimmed over the table, seeing everyone who used to be there, who he still wanted there. Sirius sat at that end, Remus next to him. Tonks and Moody there. Putting his hand on the table, he closed his eyes, head dropping back. 

“You’ll stay with me?”

_Until the very end…we are part of you._

Harry smiled softly, tears leaking down his face. “We’re not at the end, yet, are we?” 

Calling for Grinch, Harry scrawled a note to Gringotts, sending 2,000 galleons each to Dragon Defense and Protection Foundation in Hagrid’s name, Werewolf Aid, Support, and Protection for Lavender, Wizarding War Memorial for Colin, Wizarding Pride Project for Dumbledore, and Quidditch for Healing Foundation for Regulus before finishing getting ready for work.

His day went to hell after that. It started sleeting on his walk to work, and he’d forgotten his umbrella. The heating spells were wonky at the Ministry, and his office was so cold he could see his breath. Some paperwork hadn’t been filed correctly, so evidence had been possibly mishandled, and he spent three hours chasing down the actual lost items. He then had to figure out if they were still useable in court and then file the correct original paperwork and then the extra paperwork to explain what had happened and how it had been fixed. An emergency meeting was called to discuss what could be done about the outbreak of Christmas toy scalpers. Next, he had to take over an afternoon training class when the instructor called in sick, and he had a student who could rival Neville for chaos creation and Seamus for blowing things up. Finally, he had another meeting and hour of paperwork to finalize that the problem from that morning was completely fixed.

By the time he clocked out, he was frustrated, had a gash through one eyebrow from the training course, and was running late. He wasted about one second thinking he should reschedule with Draco before tossing that idea. He floo’d home long enough change into pressed slacks and a dark green button down and cast a cleaning charm over himself, then apparated to lobby of Draco’s building. The old hotel had been refurbished using wizarding space to create flats. Running his hands over his hair to flatten it, he crossed to the elevators. He paced the confines, shaking his hands and blowing out a hard breath.

The doors slide open with a ding, and he walked down the hall, chewing his lip as he knocked on the door.

Draco had pale grey slacks and a blue sweater, both accentuating his coloring and long, thin frame. The sleeves were pushed up almost to his elbows, something that Harry knew rarely happened when he was around anyone. “You’re late, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to apologize but ended up stepping forward and hugging Draco, wrapping his tightly around the other man’s shoulders and pressing his face into his neck, inhaling deeply. “My bad.”

Draco was stiff in his embrace before hugging back, hands firm against Harry’s lower back. “Bad day.”

“Kind of. Frustrating. We almost fucked up a really important case, and just.” He sighed, squeezing. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine, Harry. There is food waiting, if you’re up to making in inside.”

Harry laughed, “Yeah, no, I’m all for coming inside.”

Draco gave a strangled laugh, fingers digging into the small of Harry’s back. “Go sit down before I change my mind.”

Smiling, he followed Draco into the kitchen and sat at a tall stool at the kitchen island, breathing in the scent of tomato, basil, and garlic, his stomach growling.

“Missed lunch again, huh?” Draco grinned at him, waving his wand and sending a filled wine glass to Harry.

“I mean, I ate some stale biscuits with cold tea?” He took a swallow of the tart drink. “This is really good. You really know a lot about wines.”

Draco smirked over his shoulder. “I am excellent at everything to which I apply myself.” Harry choked on his next sip, and Draco chuckled. “The spaghetti bolognese is done. I’m putting the garlic bread in, now. It doesn’t have the same crisp when left under a stasis charm.”

Harry watched as Draco’s wand swished in one hand, his other hand hitting buttons on the stove and sliding in the pan of bread, amazed by the ease with which he combined wizarding and muggle behaviors. In moments, bowls of spaghetti bol were steaming on the table, the wine sitting between them.

“Come on. We’ll start on this, and I’ll accio the bread once it’s done. Tell me about your day.”

“I hate to vent. I mean, it’s your day off. Why ruin it with work?”

Draco smiled at him, a proper smile, no hint of a smirk, and Harry felt his stomach and heart switch places. “First, your work is not the same as mine, and second, you said you had a difficult day.” He shrugged, swirling the noodles using a fork and spoon and taking a neat bite. “If talking about it would help, I’m here to listen.”

Harry starred at the other man, shuddering, having not realized how much he wanted someone to speak to when his days were like this. “Someone almost fucked up the Rosier case.”

Draco paled, reaching over to clasp is left arm where the pale pink remnants of his Mark still existed. “Evan Rosier’s nephew, correct?”

Harry nodded, reaching out to place his hand over Draco’s. The former Death Eater’s descendant had been caught a few months earlier using the Imperius Curse to abuse younger family members. “The evidence collected had been misplaced, possibly breaking the chain of evidence and making it null. Luckily, even though everything was in the wrong spot, the paperwork on that wrong spot was correct, so it should all work out.”

“Please tell me you laid into whoever messed that up with every bit of pissy sass you used on me?” He started to tug his sleeve down.

Harry laughed, sliding his hand under Draco’s so that he was the one touching where the Mark had been, effectively stopping the movement of the sleeve. “I plan on it. I had to make sure the case would survive so I know whether to verbally or physically flay them alive.”

Draco snorted, gaze glued to where Harry was touching his left forearm. “You know why I don’t call you Harry?” A bit stunned at the change, Harry should his head. “Because it lets you get close, and I’m terrified of that.”

Harry blinked rapidly, then slid his hand down to clasp Draco’s, lifting it and kissing his fingers. “I understand, but I promise to do my best to deserve it.”

“Deserve your name?” Draco raised a brow, forehead creased.

“To deserve it from you.”

Draco’s flush and smile were worth feeling a bit cheesy. Wanting to keep their night from going too dark, Harry nipped Draco’s knuckles, making him gasp, and released his hand. “So, where did you learn to cook? I’ve always wondered if it was like making potions.”

“Baking is like potions. Cooking is chaos.”

Harry laughed, and they spent the rest of their dinner discussing their favorite foods to cook and trading stories of disasters they’d created.

After they finished their spaghetti and garlic bread, Draco pulled a chocolate mousse out of the fridge, and they finished the wine while eating that. They cleaned up together, Harry flicking soap bubbles at Draco, and Draco swatting him with a dishtowel, before getting glasses of firewhiskey and moving to sit in the living room to continue their conversation until Draco began yawning and Harry felt his eyes droop.

“Guess I should head out.”

Draco made a noncommittal noise, wobbling his head back and forth. “You’re off tomorrow, right?”

Harry nodded. “You’re not, though.”

“I suppose not.” Draco stood, walking Harry to the door. “If you’re too tired to aparate, the floo network is set up downstairs.”

Harry nodded again, studying the purplish shadows under Draco’s eyes that proved he was tired, even if he hadn’t said it. Smiling, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over Draco’s cheek. “Thank you for tonight. For everything. I’ll owl you tomorrow?”

Face pink, Draco bit his lip, smiled, and nodded.


	10. On the Tenth Day

Harry woke to someone banging on his front door. Groggy, he stumbled down the stairs and pulled the front door open, not sure why Kreatcher hadn’t answered. He usually insisted on it. Standing on the front porch was a tall, hunchbacked man with a hook nose and a….

“Christmas tree delivery. We’re here to set it up in the front room, as requested.”

“You’re here to what?” The man pushed past Harry and headed for the front room, as he’d said, tree bobbing along behind him. Harry was the distracted by the four other people standing outside his house and pointing wands at it. “What the hell are you doing?”

The one who seemed to be in charge waved as he stepped outside. “Morning, Mister Potter, sir. We’ve just about got these decorations up. I’d suggest you put some shoes on before you look at them, though.”

Harry looked down at his bare, snow-covered feet. Cursing under his breath, he went back inside and yelled for Kreatcher, shoving his feet into shoes. The elf popped up before him, and he pointed outside. “What is going on here?”

“Master Harry’s letter was next to his bed. Did he not read it before going on his run?”

“Letter? Run?” Harry groaned and rubbed both hands over his face. He hadn’t set an alarm to run today, having wanted to sleep in and enjoy the high from last night. And he hadn’t look for a letter while heading downstairs to answer the door. “Accio letter.” It zipped into his hand, and he tore it open.

_Harry_   
_You’ve mentioned many times that your knowledge of muggle traditions was limited to television because you weren’t allowed to take part in it all. Today, then, you get to take part. You home is being decorated, and a tree, decorations, and stockings to hang by the fire will be dropped off. Once adequate time has passed to decorate, the next part of your itinerary will be delivered. Enjoy your traditions, and happy Christmas._   
_Yours_

Harry ran though the days in his head. “Eleven. No, ten. Day ten. Ten traditions. Do I even know ten traditions?”

The tree man walked up then, motioning to the living room where the tree was up, and several boxes were scattered around it. “All done. Rest is up to you. Happy Christmas.” He pretended to tip a hat and walked off. Harry followed him out just in time to see the decorators leave. Turning back, he saw his house decorated in more Christmas lights that he thought existed in all of England. There were also inflatable reindeer and a Santa. A snowman, a set of angels, and a Grinch. Laughing, Harry shook his. 

“All right, true love. If I’m getting Christmas traditions to cheer me up, you are, too.” Going back inside, he sent a letter off with Grinch the floo-called Andromeda, asking for Teddy to be allowed to come over and help decorate. She agreed, and once Teddy had finished his breakfast and gotten dressed, she floo’d over with him. Harry was standing in the middle of the living room, decorations everywhere and a tangle of lights at his feet.

“Uncle Harry!”

“Hey, kiddo. Ready to help me with this?”

He nodded, bouncing over to start looking at the various bobs and bits that were meant to go on the tree.

Frowning slightly, Andromeda walked over to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Are you sure about this? It’s, well, you’ve got a mess.”

Harry laughed and nodded, another knock coming. Harry jerked his head that direction as Kreatcher opened the door. “Yeah, but we’ve also got help.”

A few minutes later, Draco entered, unwrapped his scarf. “I got your letter, Potter, I’m supposed to be at work.

Harry shrugged. “You’ll get over it. Come help us but the ribbon on.”

“Lights.”

“Huh?”

“The lights go on first.”

Andromeda laughed. “I’ll leave you boys to it. Have a good day.” She kissed Teddy’s head, hugged Draco, and left.

Teddy and Harry began untangling the lights, and Draco sorted the ornaments into piles only he seemed to understand. Soon enough, the three of them had everything on the tree, but it seemed to lilt a bit to the left.

“Do we have too many ornaments on that side?” Draco started counting ornaments.

Harry pointed at the bottom. “Maybe the, uh, thingie? Whatever that is that it’s standing in. Maybe that’s off?”

“I like it.”

They looked at Teddy, then each other, and shrugged. “I guess as long as it stays up, we’re okay. Stockings next, Draco?”

The next letter arrived as they were finalizing the sticking charms to put up the last of the stockings.

“You know. Usually you have one stocking for each person in the house. I didn’t need twelve, when there’s only me.”

“It fills up the hearth, Potter.”

“Harry.”

“It fills the hearth.”

Laughing, Harry opened his letter. “Next, we have an owl arriving with house decorations. I have house decorations. They did that this morning.” The tapping at the window alerted them that the owl was in fact there, and once he had a treat and the box he brought had been enlarged, they found candles, ribbons, tinsel, wreaths, tiny village houses, a train. “The inside of the house. And the bottom of the letter has a recipe for gingerbread. Okay, then.” He handed the letter to Draco. “You said baking was like potions. We’ll work in here.”

“I am supposed to be at work, Potter.”

“Harry. And I told you to take the day off.” Draco spluttered, but Harry just kissed his cheek again. “We’ll come help decorate the house once we’ve got all this up. Kreatcher can help you find things, if you need.”

An hour later, most of Harry’s house looked like a Christmas catalogue had thrown up before being buffeted by a tornado, but Teddy was pretty proud of what they’d accomplished. The gingerbread was also done, and that scent of that sweet, spicy cookie made everyone join together in the kitchen.

“Now, what do we do, Uncle Harry?”

“We decorate the gingerbread house the way we did the real house.”

“It’s not a house, though.”

Harry looked at Draco. “He’s right. It’s just slabs of cookie.”

Draco huffed. “I did what the recipe said. It’s not my fault it didn’t explain how you made it all stick together once it was cooked.”

“Frosting.” Draco glared at Harry. “You use it like glue or something and stick it all together.”

“How do we make frosting, Cousin Draco?”

Harry and Teddy both looked up at Draco expectantly. “We ask the house elf, that’s how.”

Harry resisted the urge to laugh, instead helping collect ingredients and take notes as Kreatcher walked them all through making frosting before leaving them to try and stick everything together then decorate it. In the end, there was more frosting and decoration than actual house.

“I think we did good.” Harry wrapped his arm around Draco, pulling him close and nuzzling him. “For a first time. We’ll plan better for next year. Right, Teddy?” Teddy yelled yes as Draco stammered something about next year. Grinning, Harry nodded. “Yeah, next year. What’s next on our itinerary? Do we have that, yet?”

Draco shook his head. “This should have taken longer.”

“If I was alone, it would have. Okay, let’s have some lunch. Teddy, frosting is not lunch. We’ll see what’s planned after that.”

The next owl arrived as they were finishing their cheese toasties, a portkey attached to the bottom of it. “Okay, we need coats, gloves and scarves. We’re going for a sleigh ride.”

“I should go to work. Let you two get on with it.”

Harry frowned, reaching out to grab Draco’s arm as he started to stand. “Why aren’t you coming with us? I want you to come with us.”

“Pot—”

“Draco.”

The blond sighed, “Harry.”

“Come with us. Please?”

Draco made a noise somewhere between a whine and a groan but nodded, putting his coat on. Once all three were ready, Harry picked up Teddy and stepped next to Draco, the two of them reaching out to take the portkey. With a squeeze and jerk from behind their navels, they found themselves in a snow-covered park next to a horse-drawn sleigh.

“Cool!”

Harry put Teddy down, letting him run to climb into the big red sleigh, then took Draco’s hand, walking over with him and helping him up. Steaming mugs of hot cider and a thick blanket appeared once they were all settled, and as the sleigh headed off to circle the area, carolers started singing.

Harry laughed and joined in, Teddy soon yell-singing along the handful of words he picked up on. Draco grimaced and teased them for not matching pitch and often being out-of-time with the tune. He learned the lyrics faster than Teddy, though, and he started whispering them to the little boy a line ahead to help him yell out more.

After a few rounds through the park, the sleigh changed directions and took them into the nearby town, stopping in front of a shopping center. “Here ye’re. Santa is just inside.”

“Santa?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Santa!”

“Yes, Teddy.” Draco laughed, helping him down. “Don’t muggles take pictures with him? Wizarding children do.”

Harry gaped, Teddy hollering and bouncing circles around them. “Muggle _children_ do.”

Draco frowned, “Not adults? Is it because they don’t get gifts?”

“Draco, Santa isn’t real. At least not for muggles. I’m sure there’s a wizard somewhere that crawled up and down chimneys passing out gifts.”

Draco nodded. “Fourteenth century Germany was the last time it was done wide range, but purebloods kept the tradition up until the early nineteen hundreds.”

“Draco. As fascinating as that is, I’m twenty-five. I’m not sitting on Santa’s lap.”

“You damn well will,” Draco growled, taking Harry by the arm and dragging him, still complaining, after Teddy and into building to stand in the short line.

“This is for kids.”

“And you didn’t get it as a kid, did you? Why not get it, now?”

“Because I’m not seven!”

Draco turned to look at him, not missing a beat of conversation. “I have a potion for that.”

“You can’t make me.”

Biting his lip, Draco stepped forward until their noses touched. “I can’t?”

Harry whined, his whole body throbbing and leaning toward Draco’s, as if they had magnets for hearts, “That’s not fair.”

“I’m a Slytherin.” Draco shrugged, grinning.

Too soon, they were at the head of the line, and Teddy was being sent up, a quickly whispered reminder that they were surrounded by muggles and this wasn’t a real magical being. Once he was done and had his picture, Draco nudged Harry forward. Harry dug in his heels until Draco pinched his ass. With a shocked yelp, he found himself practically pushed into Santa’s lap.

The man huffed out a breath, muttering for Harry to remove his elbow from his stomach and sit still.

“I’m sorry. This wasn’t my plan. I really didn’t….”

“Shut up and smile, get the picture for your boyfriend.”

Harry froze, looking over at Draco and Teddy, blushing and smiling as the camera flashed.

“Did you want to tell me what you wanted for Christmas?”

“No. I think I’ve already got it.”

They purchased the pictures and went back to the sleigh, ridding back to the park to portkey back home.

“There’s another letter, Uncle Harry!” Teddy climbed up at the table and pulled the letter over, opening it. “It says we need to write a letter to Santa and make milk and cookies to leave for him.”

Harry read over Harry’s shoulder, glad this letter didn’t have much beyond those directions, since a child had it. “Muggles only leave milk and cookies out on Christmas Eve, actually, but how about I make us hot chocolate and cookies? You can write Santa while I heat up the milk.” Teddy nodded, taking off his coat. “Put all that stuff in the living room, kiddo. Draco, upstairs, second door on the left is my office. Can you get him a quill and paper?”

Draco nodded, putting his things with Teddy’s before going to get the materials. They sat together at the kitchen table, speaking the letter out loud as they composed it, and Harry joined them once he had the hot chocolate ready and had plated the leftover parts of the gingerbread house.

Once the letter was finished, Draco said, “Now, what my mother had me do, when I was little, was fold it up, like this.” He helped Teddy start to carefully crease the paper into an intricate pattern. “Then, you’ll have a little pouch 0n the front. You put a pinch of floo powder in the pouch, write Santa on the front, and toss it into the fire.”

“Grandma said she used to do that, but she forgot how to fold it.”

Draco smiled. “I’ll make sure you learn how this year, so you can surprise her by teaching her again next year.”

Teddy grinned, and the three of them went to the living room to toss the letter into the fire.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco from behind, chin on his shoulder. “You’re good with him.”

He could feel Draco’s face heat up against his own, and he smiled.

Teddy flopped onto his back, yawning. “I might be hungry, Uncle Harry.”

“Oh? Okay, I can make some dinner.”

He nodded, looking up at them and pointing. “You guys are under the mistletoe.”

They both looked up, Draco’s face going darker. “I didn’t know that was there.”

Smiling, Harry cupped Draco’s face, leaning forward and pressing his lips against his cheek, kissing back toward his ear to murmur. “I don’t want our first kiss forced and in front of Teddy. Not our first real kiss, at least.” Letting go of Draco, noting that the flush on his face had gone splotchy and he was biting his lip, Harry trailed his thumb over Draco’s jaw, tightening his hand briefly to squeeze the side of his neck, then stepped back. “What would you?” He stopped, Teddy already asleep in front of the fire. Harry laughed. “Guess I’ll owl Andromeda, tell her not to worry about him.”

Draco turned, as well, laughing softly. “It was a big day for a kid.”

“Big day for me, too.”

“I should head to work.”

“Draco, I didn’t mean to make you have to.”

Draco put a hand over Harry’s mouth. “I’m a control freak. I don’t _have_ to go in, but I want to go check the project. That’s why you always see me on my days off. I enjoyed today, too.” He hesitated a moment, then leaned forward to kiss Harry’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.”


	11. On the Eleventh Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is a little short comparatively, but I liked how it went too much to fuck with that. I may miss a day coming up, holidays with the family and all, so my bad in advance. I'm definitely committed to completing this, though.

Teddy woke Harry early, starving since he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, so Harry had Kreatcher make a full English breakfast while he helped Teddy get dressed and collect his things. Once they’d both eaten, Harry floo’d Teddy home, arriving at work an hour late.

There hadn’t been a letter at his house, and there wasn’t anything waiting on him at work. Every time he left his office, he looked for a package or letter upon return, but nothing arrived. When he got home, still nothing. Harry felt his curiosity growing steadily, knowing his love wouldn’t forget day eleven. He never forgot anything. An owl arrived just before dinner, but it was from Molly, saying his favor was done. He sat down for dinner, mind rolling, wondering if it would be another bath or something in his room before bed. _That_ thought had his mind going in even different directions.

After dinner, however, another owl pecked on the window. 

_Harry_   
_You’ve mentioned that Sirius thought he was always on the outside of family, but I think you do, too. So this is your way into the Blacks and their traditions. You now have your own star, one near Sirius’s own._   
_Yours_

Hands shaking, Harry set the letter aside, looking at the second sheet of enclosed paper. It was official letter explain that the star at the listed coordinates was officially named Potter. He didn’t realize he was moving, just heard the crack of apparition and found himself in Draco’s lobby. Forgoing the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time, jogging down the hall and banging on the door, panting for breath.

Draco answered, hair damp and curling around his face, dressed in green plaid pajama pants and a soft tee in a matching green. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry held up the paper with the coordinates. “I need to see. I knew you’d be able. I need to see.”

Understanding registered on Draco’s face, and he nodded. “One moment.” He went down the hall of the flat then came back, slippers on, two pairs of binoculars and his wand in hand. “I’ll use a warming charm. Come along.”

They went up to the roof, and Draco cast a warming charm then another more complicated one on the binoculars. He showed Harry how to work them, setting the coordinates, then had him lay back and look toward the south.

“That’s Canis Major and the Sirius star. If you move your binoculars up and over a bit. There. You should see the Potter star.”

They laid there quietly for a while, Harry staring at his star. He finally lowered his binoculars, one tear running down into his hairline. “Thank you.” He turned his head, smiling at Draco stretched out next to him. “Thank you.”

Reaching out, he cupped Draco’s face, leaning in to brush their noses together, giving Draco time to say no, then pressed their lips together. A light press, warmth of their breath mixing, hint of mint from where Draco had brushed his teeth before Harry came over. It was perfect. Draco’s lips melded just right against his, the catch his breath matching the hitch in Harry’s heartbeat.

“Show me yours? Where is your constellation?”

Draco kissed him again, still just as light as before, then lay back, shifting over to snuggle closer to Harry. He pointed out his constellation, Andromeda, Narcissa, Regulus, even Leo, every star and constellation Harry expressed interest in, explaining their significance and when it would be easier to see some of them.

Their warming charm finally started to wane, and Harry rolled to his side, head on Draco’s shoulder, face in his throat. “Have I said thank you?”

“Yes, Harry, but you don’t need to thank me for this.” Draco’s arms wrapped around him, and he squeezed. Harry’s body relaxed, breathing starting to even out, and Draco squeezed again, clearing his throat. “This would be more comfortable…not on the roof…”

Harry smiled, “Maybe a bed?” Draco’s breath caught, and he cleared his throat several times. “I mean, to cuddle. I don’t expect more. I can go home.”

“No!” Draco’s head snapped up as Harry started to pull away, and they cracked foreheads, both cursing in pain then laughing. “I didn’t mean for you to leave. I just, I suppose I’m awkward. I don’t mind you staying. I’d…I’d like that.”

Both blushing, they made their way downstairs, Draco lent Harry an extra set up pajamas while he put everything away and locked up. There was a moment of nerves as they climbed into Draco’s bed.

"What side do you sleep on?"

"Doesn't matter."

"I'm usually the right, but I can switch. I mean!"

"Just get in the bed, Draco."

They soon fell back into their position from upstairs, Harry tucked against Draco’s side. Harry leaned up, kissing Draco again, just a brush of lips, nuzzle of noses, neither ready for rushing into more or breaking the sweetness of the night. They curled together, faces touching, as the both fell asleep.


	12. On the Twelfth Day

Harry woke wrapped around Draco, face buried in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He flattened his hand over the steady thrum of the other man’s heartbeat and hugged him closer, smiling as gave a sleepy whine and snuggled closer. While his body reacted quickly, Harry was happy just to hold the other man for as long as he could. He watched as the rising sun steadily lit up the room, laughing softly as a piece of classical music soon filled the space, as well.

Draco stretched in Harry’s arms, whole body arching backwards then twisting against him, making him groan. With a small sigh, Draco shook his head and leaned forward, getting his wand and waving it to stop the music.

“You wake up to classical music? I’m both surprised and not.”

Draco laughed, the sound sleep-rough, and nodded. “Neilson’s Helios Overture. It’s a good morning song and has a soft build. I don’t like to wake up too harshly.” He frowned, continuing slowly, “When he, Vold—, the Dark Lord, and Aunt Bella lived at the Manor, they’d.”

Harry cupped Draco’s face and kissed him, stopping the negative train of thought. “I don’t like it either. Haven’t since before I even went to Hogwarts. I listen to classic rock to wake me up. Queen’s ‘I Want to Break Free.’ It was Sirius’s favorite.”

Smiling, Draco carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, scratching gently and sending chills down his spine. “Should have known you’d understand. I have to get ready for work. I, uh, I have time for breakfast, though. If you’d like?”

Harry grinned and nodded, kissing him once more. “I’ll make some coffee and eggs while you get dressed.” Still grinning stupidly, he headed for the kitchen, hearing Draco turn the song from before back on. It wasn’t what Harry was used to, but he had to admit that it was pretty soothing to hear while starting the day. By the time Draco came out, Harry had eggs, bacon, toast and coffee prepped. He handed Draco a cup of tea, though, noticing the other man’s shock when he did.

“You don’t like coffee. Called it muggle swill, I believe.” He smiled, motioning for Draco to sit as he did the same. “You like black tea in the morning, no milk, extra sugar. Switch to fruity green teas without sugar around lunch.” Draco stared at him, still standing. “I pay attention, too. Sit, eat. I don’t want to make you late, since I already made you call in for the first time ever.”

Draco sat, sipping his tea, making a sound of approval when it was the right flavor. “Could be a bit hotter, but mother says I’m going to scald off my taste buds one morning.”

Harry laughed, asking about Draco’s day, what was planned. He wasn’t due in for another couple hours, but that would give him time to go home, shower, and change.

“Tomorrow, you’ll be at the Burrow, right?”

Harry nodded. “I’ll head over for lunch, we do presents after that, leftovers and sweets for dinner, home late.” He paused. “Did you want to come?”

Draco knocked his tea cup over, though it was at least mostly empty. “Me? At the Weasley house? I don’t think so Potter.”

Harry frowned. “Why not? And why Potter again? Are you still afraid of letting me get close?”

Ducking, Draco flushed. “I’m still afraid that I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“Draco, no.” He reached over, taking the blond’s hand. “You’re welcome anywhere I am. And if you’re not welcome, then, neither am I. If you want to come, you can. It’ll be fine.”

“I let in Greyback, when he…”

“You were a child. Scared and forced to survive as best you could.” Harry squeezed his hand. “I know it’s still lonely to be Draco Malfoy. That it feels like you’ll always be suspect. But you’re not. It might be a bit awkward at first, but once they get to know you, know _you_ and not the scared kid from before, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“How?”

“I’ve already asked. Sort of. Not in so many words, but yeah.”

“You…you did.”

“Basically.” Harry flushed, rubbing the hand not holding Draco’s over his face. “Would you feel better if I asked specifically?”

Draco shook his head then nodded. “After Christmas, though. If that’s okay?”

Harry nodded, lifting his hand and kissing his fingers. “No problem. I’ll ask tomorrow, set up a day.”

They walked downstairs together after cleaning up from breakfast, holding hands, but Draco started to pull away before they entered the lobby. “Draco, is this because you’re not ready to hold my hand or because you don’t think I’m ready.” Draco bit his lip, and Harry took his hand again, crossing the lobby and kissing his cheek. “Have a good day.”

…

That night, Harry came home already planning on sending Draco an owl to come over for dinner only to find a package and note on his table.

_Harry_   
_I know Hagrid made you a book like this when you were eleven, but I don’t suppose you can ever have enough pictures and stories about your parents. He and I worked together to make this one. Enjoy your family for Christmas._   
_Yours_

Harry unwrapped the package to find a memory book. Opening it, he found multiple pictures of his parents, Remus, and Sirius and others interspaced with handwritten stories, each one in different script.

_I had the four of them in Transfiguration of course, and from the first day, it was obvious they’d become fast friends. James and Sirius were already thick as thieves, much like Harry and Ron. In the beginning, Sirius and Remus both barely spoke, so afraid to draw attention to themselves. I’m pretty sure James asked questions he already knew the answers to because they were scared to speak up. As the year went on, I watched the others grow into themselves as they realized they were safe and had unconditional love from their friend. James was good like that. He could make friends with anyone because he never made demands of them. He didn’t expect everyone to be as outgoing or interested in quidditch as he was. I saw the same thing in Harry. His father would have been very proud of what a good person and good friend his son is._

Smiling, Harry flipped the page.

_Lily was an incredibly talented witch, a wonderful friend, and one of the bravest people I have known. She was the world’s worst singer, though. James had a lovely baritone, but her singing was enough to send others running from the room. She owled me after she discovered she was pregnant, saying she wanted to be able to sing to her child without making them cry. We met off and on over the next months, practicing until she felt confident enough to get through lullabies. After little Harry was born, she invited me down to see him. Turns out, he loved her voice. No matter how much James would sing, Harry didn’t calm, but the moment Lily sang, he’d fall right to sleep. She cried as she thanked me for the help. I’ve never been prouder._

Harry set the book aside, summoning tissues and making himself a pot of tea. He wiped his eyes and sat back down, flipping a page. There were several pictures of the marauders throughout their Hogwarts years, and as McGonagall had said, Sirius was far less confident at first. His hair was shorter, clothes always neat and orderly, and he never smiled. Soon, his grins rivaled his father’s, uniform became less tidy, and his hair steadily grew longer. There were also several pictures of his father and Sirius in their quidditch gear.

_I’ll be honest, I worried about the two of them trying out. They’d already become known for getting into trouble together, even by the beginning of their third year. Nothing serious mind you, just good-natured pranks and fun, but that can cause problems on a quidditch pitch. I was wrong, though. James was a natural at Seeker; not as good as Harry, mind, but he’s definitely where his son got his talent. Sirius, though, fell into being a Beater like he was born to it. He had a natural want to protect, quick reflexes, and no fear at throwing himself in front of a speeding bludger. The two of them on the team were amazing to see, and it was no surprise to anyone when Gryffindor won the quidditch cup that year._

Harry flipped through pictures of his parents’ wedding, a few of his mother pregnant. His favorite was one of his mother sitting in a rocking chair, his father kneeling before her with his hands on her stomach. He was smiling in a besotted way, looking at where his hands touched her stomach, and she was smiling at him, just as smitten. The image moved, James looking up at Lily, and when their eyes met, they both grinned widely. Harry remembered thinking his mother had hated his father after seeing Snape’s memory, but this image proved that was wrong. So wrong. They were so obviously in love that it hurt to watch. It was a good hurt, though, and Harry stared at the moving image until his tea went cold.

Harry was stunned to see his Aunt Petunia’s handwriting in the book, several pictures of her and his mother as children and teens.

_My sister was my best friend growing up. She always told the best stories, and we’d spend hours playing with our dolls or exploring the woods near our childhood home. Once we started school, things began to change. I did all right, but it was obvious from the start that Lily was very intelligent, was something special. Then, the letter came from Hogwarts. I was so jealous that I wasn’t special, too, so worried that she’d do great things and not need me anymore. When she discovered she was pregnant shortly after I did, though, she came to me first, even before mom. She was terrified that she wouldn’t make a good mother because she was so young, afraid to bring a baby into the issues her world was facing, but she was so excited about her and James expecting a baby, to have a family with him. She said I had always been able to make her feel better, even when we were kids. I knew then that my little sister needed me just as much as I needed her. We spent several hours sitting together, discussing our fears and hopes and what we’d been experiencing already in our pregnancies. Vernon threw a fit when he found out I’d let her in the house, and that was the last time I spoke to my sister, avoiding her any other times we say one another. I’ve always held onto that memory. I wish I’d done better by my sister and by Harry, but I’m glad we had that moment._

Harry turned another page and saw a muggle picture of his mother and a little boy with greasy hair and a thin face. The writing underneath it was the same neat script of the daily letters.

_Snape only spoke of his friendship with Lily once, when he was very, very drunk. It was just after the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the Dark Lord’s return. He’d been trying to escape one of father’s violent rages, and he walked until he found himself in the same woods Lily and her sister used to play in. Petunia was away for the day, something to do with school, so it was just Lily. He’s been afraid to say anything, at first, used to being an outcast either for being half-blood or being poor, and he expected her to push him away or tease him. She was playing pirates, though, and simply pointed her play sword at him and asked if he was trustworthy enough to join the good ship Girl Flower. They wound up playing all day, her even taking him back to her house for lunch. Her mom also accepted him without question, feeding him and even sending him home with extra. He fell in love with her family as much as with her, wanted so badly to be a part of that. He didn’t go to his own parents’ funerals, but he showed up at hers. She was no longer friends with him and didn’t approach him, but she let him stay._

Harry kept reading all night, not stopping until he’d gone through the book twice. It was only when the sun started to come up that he realized how long it had been. Clutching the book to his chest, he made his way upstairs to fall into bed and get a couple hours of sleep, still not letting go.


	13. All that I Want Can't be Found Underneath the Christmas Tree

The Burrow was chaos, and Harry loved every minute. There were more redheads than he could count, and Little Fred was wrapped around his neck from the minute he walked in. He circled all the rooms, hugging everyone and asking if Molly needed help, only to be shooed back into the living room. He dropped onto the couch, squeezed between Percy and Charlie.

“Is that a baby dragon in a onsie?”

“It’s a Welsh Green. Not even teething yet. No worries.”

A few minutes later, Ginny and Cho burst in together, Cho hugging something against her chest.

Ginny grinned and bellowed, “We have an announcement. We’ve had a baby.”

Molly walked in, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Having a baby?”

“No, had.” Cho giggled and set down what she was holding, a fluffy black puppy with giant paws stumbling into the living room. “His name is Hairy Pupper.”

The entire house roared with laughter, even Harry. Ginny bounced over to fall in his lap and hug him, and he squeezed her. “I hate you.”

“I hate you, too, second Harry.”

“No, I’m first Harry. That’s second Hairy.”

“Yeah, but I love him more.”

Harry snorted, shoving her into the floor. Another roar of laughter echoed through the Burrow, and Molly walked over and took Little Fred. “Knock it off and clean up, you all. Dinner will be on the table in five minutes.”

Harry stood and stretched, trying to make his way through to the kitchen, but Ron grabbed his arm and hauled him outside.

“What’s wrong?” Harry frowned, following along.

He rubbed the back of his neck, freckles standing out starkly against his skin. “Nothing is wrong. I just. Well, I wanted to talk to you alone for two minutes, and I figured while everyone was getting to the table was a good time.”

Harry frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Um. Okay?”

“So, the thing is.” Ron took a deep breath and faced him straight on. “The thing is, you’ve been really sad, lately. For a long time, if I’m honest. And you hide it well, but you’ve been sad, especially around the holidays. Only this year, you haven’t been sad. Not like normal. And I think it’s because of Malfoy. Draco, I mean.”

Harry felt his face grow hot even as he grinned, and he ducked, biting his lip. “I mean…”

“No, no. Let me finish. I’m pretty sure Draco is why you’ve been happier, and I want you to know that that’s okay. Not as in I get to decide what’s okay for you and what’s not, but I don’t want you to think you need to hide it or him because of us or from us. I want you to be happy, we all do, and if Draco makes you happy, be happy.” He shrugged, smiling. “You’re my best mate, another brother. You’re our family, and if you like him, we’ll give him a shot. Besides, he seems like an okay sort of prat, nowadays.”

Harry laughed, nodding. “He’s pretty amazing, really. And yeah, I do like him. I like him a lot, really. More than I realized. And I want you all to meet him, really meet him, as you are now.”

“Then, name the time and day. Like I said at the Ministry, we can be a bit much all together, but we’re here for you.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder then pulled him into a hug. “Now, let’s go eat before George takes all the best bits.”

“You go ahead. I get him next.”

Harry looked up as Ron shrugged and walked inside, Cho coming over to meet him. “Are you coming to tell me it’s okay for me to date Draco, too?”

She jolted, eyes going wide. “No, though I’m not surprised you are. You’ve both been gaga over each other since, what, first year?”

Harry laughed, “I don’t think either of us will ever admit to that, but I won’t deny it, either.”

She smiled, fidgeting, “I’m actually wanting to make sure you’re okay with me dating Ginny. I, well, I love her, Harry. I really, really love her. And I haven’t felt like this about anyone since Cedric. But you’re her family, and I can’t be an issue there. That’s not fair to her or you or anyone else, so I need to know.”

“Cho!” She stopped rambling as Harry cut in loudly. “I have no issue with you and Ginny dating. I never did. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t.” She flushed, laughing. “Well, I mostly don’t. But you were together for a while, or she at least liked you for a while, and you’ve known each other so long and all.” She sighed, “And I realized I loved her. I guess I’m afraid that having something this good will get taken away, like…like, before.”

Harry walked up and hugged her tightly. “Not by me. I’m happy for you two, and I’m glad you’ve found love again. Cedric was someone really, really special, and so is Ginny, and so are you.”

She smiled, “You are, too. And so is Draco.” She laughed when Harry started at her words. “I’ve worked with him recently on a fundraising project, and he’s grown into someone I’m happy to call a friend. If you want to call him more than a friend.” She waggled her brows. “Go for it.” Harry blushed, and she laughed harder, hugging him again. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Any time. And I really am glad you’re happy again. I know how hard Cedric’s death hit you, both of us.” Harry shrugged, smirking. “I’m pretty sure he’s how I figured out I liked guys and girls.”

Cho laughed, “He’s why _I_ figured out I liked guys! I’d only dated women before him.”

Harry wrinkled his nose, leaning in conspiratorially. “Honestly, I was thinking of Cedric when I kissed you.”

Cho giggled, nodding, “Same. That’s one way to toast someone’s memory, right?”

Harry laughed, kissing her forehead. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Can we go eat and enjoy our very gay love lives?”

Nodding, she dragged him back toward the house. Dinner was even louder than usual, the puppy barking and circling everyone’s feet, kids chasing after him to play. The food was even better than Harry remembered, and George managed to sneak three different Wheezes into everything. Once everyone was so full they could barely move, they all moved to the living room to pass out gifts.

Hermione passed a gift to Molly, before exchanging a look with Ron. Harry paused in opening his current present and watched as Molly unwrapped hers.

“An empty picture frame, and pink and blue yarn? Why would you?” She suddenly noticed the grins on her son and daughter-in-law’s face, how Ron’s hands covered Hermione’s stomach as he held her against him. Yelling happily, Molly stood so quickly her gifts went flying. “You’re having a baby?”

“I’m having a baby, technically, but he’s been good about bringing me pickles and treacle pudding.”

Still yelling, Molly pulled her into a hug, dancing them in a circle. George smacked Ron on the back, grinning. “You old dog, you. I knew you had that cat with the cream look, lately.” Ron’s face was darker than his hair, but he nodded.

“Rotten brother! Here I thought my new baby would be the biggest announcement.”

“Your new baby is chewing on the yarn for their new baby’s sweater, so.”

“Hairy Pupper! No!”

Harry laughed until he couldn’t breathe, wishing Draco was here to be part of all this. When Molly slipped away to the kitchen to check on her pies, leaving Arthur to lead clean up, Harry followed. “Hey. I had a question.”

“The package you asked for is upstairs. I wanted to keep it hidden from this lot of heathens.”

“You love them.” He grinned as she nodded. “No, I actually have another favor, I guess. I was hoping to bring someone over for dinner.”

“The someone that gift is for?” She smiled at him, it widening as he nodded. “Of course, my sweet boy. You’re my last unpaired child, and that just won’t do.”

Harry blushed, shoulders coming up around his ears as he crossed his arms. “Well, I’m hoping to change that. I want you to like…like him.”

Molly didn’t even flinch. “Sweetheart, we didn’t mind one bit that Percy brought a him home or Ginny a her, and it doesn’t bother us that Charlie has not interest in bringing anyone but dragons. Besides, I know more than you think. If you like this young man, I trust your judgement. Why not bring him over that first weekend of January, start the year off right?”

“We have a date planned. Well, I have a date planned, he has to agree, for that Friday. Sunday dinner here?”

She nodded. “I’ll invite Ron and Hermione, too, if that’s all right.” Harry nodded. “Good. Now, help me finish cutting up these pies, and I’ll make up so tea. Then, we can go listen to the Celestina Warbeck Christmas program.”

Grinning widely, feeling happier and more relaxed than he had in years, Harry did just that.


	14. You are the Angel atop my Tree; You are my Dream come True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is special for AJenno, who has been my support, advice, and bestest for years.

Harry stretched, rubbing his lower back. Since Christmas Day was pretty quite for his section of the DMLE, most issues being funneled to the fire section or the St. Mungo’s, he’d spent the day catching up on paperwork. He’d put a decent dent in it all, but he was more than ready to head to Andromeda and Teddy’s for dinner.

He grabbed his robes and headed down the hall, veering sharply as he reached the lift and suddenly walking down to potions. Inside, Draco was leaned back over that same cauldron, the smoke painting his face is shadows that emphasized the delicately crafted lines of his narrow jaw and nose, sharp cheekbones. Harry’s own face was more square, thick brows that were just as unruly as his hair, and his five o’clock shadow often showing up by noon. He was stunned all over that someone who looked like statuesque marble come to life would be interested in him. He felt a sudden urge to push Draco back against a wall and kiss him until the warmth and heat of his body squirming against Harry proved the depth of that interest.

Harry was always pissed if someone interrupted his work with no warning, though, and he didn’t want to piss Draco off this early in their relationship. Or at least what he hoped was a relationship.

He cleared his throat, weight shifting from one foot to another. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Draco never looked up. “You kind of are, but that’s just because we’re in a hinky phase of potion creation.”

“I suppose that means you aren’t free to go to Christmas dinner.”

“Harry.” Draco’s eyes flickered to him briefly, the fondness in them and his tone obvious. “I spend Christmas at work. It’s fine. I’m not missing anything.”

But he was. Harry knew he was because he’d been missing the same thing. “When are you off?”

“I don’t know. I offered to watch this until it manifests.”

“Manifests what?”

“Whatever it’s going to manifest.” He smiled back up. “I’m fine. Really. Mum asked the same thing this morning, and I told her just what I’m telling you. Go. Give Andromeda and Teddy my love.”

Draco straightened as Harry crossed the room, cupped his face, and dipped his head to kiss him, nipping his full lower lip. “Please owl me if that changes? Please?”

Draco’s breath came in quick pants, face pink. “I’ll be fine, Harry. But yes, if for some reason, I’m suddenly not fine, I’ll let you know.”

Harry nodded, pressing their lips together once more. “Thank you.” Grinning, Harry backed out of the room and headed for the lift, floo’ing to Andromeda’s house.

“Uncle Harry!” Teddy ran forward, and Harry caught him up in a hug.

“Hi, kiddo. Did you enjoy your Christmas?” Teddy nodded as Harry carried him to the kitchen. “Are you washed up for dinner? No? Okay, we’ll wash up together. Andromeda, do you need help?”

“No, sweetie. Trinket is getting the table set. We’re just waiting on you. Once dinner is done, I’ll have Teddy open his gift from you.”

“I also have to wait on Cousin Draco’s gift.”

Harry smiled. “I have an idea about that.”

They joined Andromeda at the table for turkey and dressing, roasted potatoes, gravy, brussel sprouts, cranberry sauce, Yorkshire pudding, and more. Once they were all stuffed on two servings of treacle tart and Christmas pudding, they headed to the living room for Teddy to open his broom.

“This is so cool!” He automatically climbed on and took off, almost wiping out the tree, scaring his grandmother’s crups, and then falling off. “I wanna do it again!!”

“He’s so much like his mother.” Andromeda smiled, wiping tears from her eyes and hugging Harry as Teddy took off for another run. “Thank you. Oh, and I had Trinket package up some food for you to take home.”

“Thank you. I wondered. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Getting some together for you to take to Draco?” Harry blushed, and she laughed. “Old does not mean blind. That’s ready, too. I suppose you need a pensive vial, too?”

“Yes.”

They called Teddy back over to open his cleaning kit, laughing as he crashed twice on his way over.

An hour later, Teddy was worn out and tucked into bed, two Christmas stories read, and Harry was on his way back to the office. Draco was in a different set of clothing, his hair wet, and a healed cut over his left eye.

“It blew up. I don’t want to talk about it. I was about to start the next batch.”

Harry held up the food container and pensive vial. “Can you take a short break?”

“What’s that?”

“You couldn’t come to Christmas, so I brought Christmas to you.” Draco nodded toward his office, and Harry followed him over. “I brought dinner, dessert, and some memories of Teddy and gifts.” He set down the bag of dinner and handed Draco the pensive vial. “Do you have time to celebrate?”

Sighing, Draco set aside the vial and pulled Harry into a deep kiss, licking into his mouth with a soft groan. “Yes.”

Growling softly, Harry gripped Draco’s hips and pulled him close again, lips slanting over his. “I hadn’t expected, hadn’t meant.”

“I know.” Draco’s hands slid up Harry’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders. “But I need. Is that a problem for you?”

“Never.” Harry nipped his lips, pushing him back against the desk. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. Wanted you for so long.” Harry’s lips found Draco’s again, and he moaned as he felt the other man’s hips buck into his. Shifting, he slid one thigh between Draco’s and rolled his hips, both moaning as their growing erections rubbed against one another.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, Potter.” Draco’s voice was high, thready, and he arched to press closer.

“Harry.” Sliding his hand down, he squeezed Draco’s ass. “Say my name, Draco.”

“Harry.” Draco growled and twisted them, switching positions so Harry was the one against the desk then dropped to his knees.

Harry’s eyes went wide, his whole body shuddering. “You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to. Need to taste you.” His fingers worked at the flies of Harry’s slacks. “Let me?”

Harry nodded, rendered mute by seeing Draco on his knees. His fingers sifted through the soft blond strands, careful not to tangle since they were still damp.

Draco tugged the slacks and pants down, gasping softly as Harry’s cock sprang free. “I’d say that’s not fair, but since I get to appreciate it, I’ll go for thank you.”

Harry started to blush, but he ended up groaning, head dropping back, as Draco swallowed him down without warning. “Son of a bitch.”

Draco’s head bobbed, one hand sliding around to cup Harry’s ass. His tongue swirled around the head of Harry’s cock, free hand running over his thighs, tugging lightly at the coarse hair there and making Harry whimper and writhe.

“Fuck, I’ve imagined you sounding like that, for me, for years.” Draco worked his hand over Harry’s length, kissing along the crease of his thigh. “I want to hear my name on your lips when you fall apart, though.” Widening the stance of his knees, he angled his head and took Harry all the way to the root, letting Harry slide into his throat, free hand rolling and tugging his balls.

“Fuck, Draco, I’m not going to last.” He could feel Draco laugh, the sound reverberating up his throat and through Harry’s dick. His head fell back, muscles going taunt, and lights burst behind his eyes. “Draco!”

Hips jerking, Harry spilled down Draco’s throat with a long, low groan, shuddering as he felt Draco swallow every drop. He struggled to catch his breath, Draco buttoning him back up and standing, hands sliding over his chest, shoulders, arms.

Tugging Draco against his chest, Harry nuzzled his hair, kissing him. He started to reach for the other man’s fly, but Draco stopped him.

“I don’t need you to. Probably don’t have time.” Draco smiled and kissed him lightly. “Especially if you brought me food.”

Harry bit his lip and smiled, kissing him again. “Next time?”

Draco shuddered. “Yes.”


	15. Take Back the Holly and Mistletoe, Silver Bells on Strings

Draco had Boxing Day off, but he’d been at work until almost six am before someone pulled him away from the cauldron and sent him home. He’d slept most of his day off, only waking long enough to eat what was left of the Christmas dinner that Harry brought him before sleeping again until time to prepare for work once more. He was still smiling about his dinner with Harry when he arrived at work on December 27th.

He yawned as he walked into his office, waving his wand to start some tea, the stopped cold in the middle of his office. Hands shaking, he swallowed heavily and crossed to his desk, lifting a letter in a familiar, barely legible scrawl.

_My true love_  
_I remembered you telling stories to Teddy about traveling to Paris with your mother over Christmas break when you were young, so I reached out to her and collected some of your favorites._  
_Chocolates from Gerard Mulot, white wine from Domaine de la Romanee-Conti, and pastry from Dalloyau. Enjoy._  
_Equally yours_

He started laughing, doubling over as his laughter turned to tears. He’d known Potter, or Harry, now, as he demanded, would figure it out. Even as Draco had lied to himself that he would be able to pull this off without being found out, he’d known Harry would figure him out, known had figured him out days ago. He supposed he wanted to be found out, though. He’d been nursing this crush, this love, this want for so long, he was ready to see what happened. He’d never allowed himself to imagine this would be the result. That his gifts would become dinners and kisses and nights in each other’s arms, that he’d know what Harry sounded like as he came. He could still taste him when he closed his eyes and focused.

Wiping his eyes, he read the letter again. He didn’t deserve Harry’s love, didn’t deserve to belong to someone so wonderful, but somehow, it seemed that he did.

Draco sat and picked up a pastry, a buttery, soft croissant, saving the rest for later, and accio’d his finished tea. He knew he needed to be writing up what had gone wrong with his latest potion, start figuring out what to change for the next attempt, but he kept looking at Harry’s letter.

Suddenly, Grinch flew in, package attached to his leg. Draco took the package and spelled in bigger, eyes watering again. Grinch bounced over to the candy dish on his desk, pulling out a peppermint candy and dragging it over to Draco. “You remembered my favorite.” He patted the little bird, popped the mint in his mouth, and opened the package.

It was a beautifully delicate scarf in teal green with silver woven throughout. As he looked closely, though, he realized the silver was in the shape of a constellation. His constellation.

“Oh, damn the man, he’s stealing my idea.” He laughed, though. “Grinch, how did we do so well? How?”

The bird didn’t answer. Just hooted and flew off, probably for the next gift.

“He can’t do twelve in one day. He can’t. Oh, who am I kidding. He’s Harry fucking Potter. Watch him do what I did and better.” Smiling, Draco wiped his eyes. “Or at least faster.”

The third gift was a stocking with a note that they would add it to the collection they hung next year. Fourth, Draco received a note that 1,000 galleons each were donated to Wizarding War Memorial for Snape, Vince, and Narcissa with another 1,000 to the Wizarding Pride Project in Lucius’s name, just to piss him off.

Fifth came another package. Unwrapping it, Draco gasped as soft, dark rose sweater unfolded, note tucked inside.  
_Mine_  
_I kept your secrets, but I did still speak with the Weasley’s about you and us visiting. They’re expecting us for Sunday dinner next weekend, and I thought you should have your own Weasley sweater for the occasion. I know this is your favorite color, no matter how much black and green you wear, and you do look damn good in, and out, of it._  
_Yours_

Draco had always been able to compartmentalize, focus on what was in front of him, but Harry had always been able to ruin Draco’s best laid plans. He gave up on work. Instead, he indulged in his chocolates and waited for the next package.

Sixth, green socks with silver dragons on them  
Seventh, a Nimbus 6000 _for our next pickup game_  
Eighth, a golden snitch that opened when he caught it, revealing an empty ring box  
Ninth, four bouquets: white daffodils, lavender, red roses, and lily of the valley  
Tenth, a jam roly-poly _you say your favorite dessert is banoffee pie because it’s neater than this is, but I’ve seen the look on your face as you lick your fingers clean_

The final arrival was once again with Grinch, a short note of _I’m keeping him but only if you are, too_ with the spare quidditch ticket attached to the bottom.

He was sitting quietly, mulling over what the ticket and note and gifts all meant when the man in question stuck his head in the door.

“They said you were still here. I wanted to invite you to mine for dinner. I’m making fish. Heard it went well with white wine.” He winked.

Draco shook his head, grinning back. “Rotter. Dinner sounds lovely. When should I be there?”

…

A little under two hours later, Draco arrived at Grimmauld place with his bottle of wine and a bag over his shoulder. Harry raised a brow at the sight of the bag, and Draco blushed, shrugging that arm. “I, uh, brought your Christmas gift.”

“I’ve got yours under the tree.” Grinning, Harry kissed Draco and tugged him inside. “Come on. I don’t want dinner to burn.”

Draco set the bag down and followed Harry to the kitchen to pour them each a glass of the crisp liquid. “What are we having?”

“Some sort of pasta, shrimp, and pesto dish. Kreatcher told me about it, said it went with the wine I found.” Blushing, Harry rubbed his eyebrow with the back of his hand. “I’m still not good at the whole having money and being fancy thing.”

Walking over, Draco hugged him from behind and kissed his neck, smiling at his shiver and handing him his glass of wine. “Harry, I don’t need you to be fancy. Don’t expect you to act different because of me. I didn’t…I didn’t send you things to try and change you.”

Harry turned, cupping Draco’s jaw and kissing him, soft, slowly deepening it until the other man sighed and sank into him. “I know. I still wanted to try. For you.”

Both blushing, they stayed wrapped up, kissing off and on, until the pasta started to boil over. Laughing, Draco set the table while Harry finished making the food before they sat together.

“Oh wow. This is really good. How did you manage to sit through my food?”

Harry kicked his ankle lightly under the table. “I liked what you made. I just have more experience. Aunt Petunia had me in the kitchen cooking as soon as I could see over the stove top.”

Draco straightened, frowning. “Is that? No, no, it’s not. That’s not common practice, even in muggle families.” Harry’s face went hot, and he rolled his shoulders, eyes flickering to the left, a sure sign he wasn’t comfortable. Reaching out, Draco took his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something upsetting. I know you don’t have many good memories from them.”

“It’s fine. I was just. Well, I guess I was more like help than family. I think that’s why I got so close to Dobby so quickly. I understood what it was like to feel trapped. Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

Draco waved a hand. “No, no, we were horrible to our elves. Mother saw them as servants, father treated them as less than human, and I grew up thinking that was normal. I shudder to look back on it, now, but I’m not going to shy away from admitting we were shit.” He shrugged, left hand twitching to make sure he shirt sleeve was still down.

“Were shit.” Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s wrist, and he flushed at his nervous tick being noticed. “You’re pretty not shit anymore.”

“Pretty not shit?”

“Yeah.” Harry grinned, and Draco plucked a cherry tomato from his dish and threw it the brunette. “Prat.”

Harry laughed, catching the tomato and popping it in his mouth. “Yeah, but I’m your prat.”

Draco dropped his fork, and he ducked, mumbling an apology and wiping up the splash of sauce, but Harry took his hand. Not sure he was pulling in a full breath, not sure he was breathing at all, Draco looked up.

“I am, you know. Yours.”

Something in Draco seemed to break at having his own words quoted back to him, so calmly and casually, as if Harry Potter said things like that to Draco Malfoy every day. His whole body seemed to quake, and he shook his head. “You could so much better.”

“No. Draco, no.” He came around the table and cupped Draco’s face, wiping his cheeks. “You’re smart and sweet and sass me and have always seen me as more than a savior or whatever. You know I’m moody and push people away and work too much, and you’re just the damn same. Just as stubborn and desperate to prove yourself. I’m not the Boy Who Lived. You’re not a Death Eater. I’m Harry, and you’re Draco, and I…I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Always straight to the core of me. Always.” Draco kissed Harry, fingers running through his hair. “And if you’re falling, I’m here to catch.” He held his hand out, palm up, remembering sharply the first time he offered himself like this, laid himself bare to the possible derision of Potter.

This time, Harry interlaced their fingers, lifted their hands, and kissed Draco’s palm. “I trust you.”

After finishing dinner, they retired to the living room, exchanging gifts. “You know, taking all these decorations down is going to be hell.”

“Hey, I just sent them over.” Draco smirked, undoing the paper on his present. “You get to do the rest.”

“Kreatcher can do it with a snap, huh?”

“If he can, he’ll never tell you.”

Both men laughed, Harry nodding. “I know. He enjoys watching me struggle with things like that. Oh wow!” Harry finished opening his gift, revealing a broom cleaning kit specifically for the Nimbus 6000 and autographed by the seeker of the Arrows. “I didn’t know they were making a kit just for the new broom.”

Draco grinned. “I may or may not be one of the people funding the broom and thus have some inside information.” His smile faded as he lifted the lid to the box he’d just unwrapped. “This is. Harry.” In the box were a set of potions utensils made with unicorn horn handles and two silver cauldrons encrusted with emeralds, one collapsible and one self-stirring.

“I thought the stirring stick and stuff matching your wand would be, I don’t know, at least cool, if not somehow helpful.”

Setting the box carefully to one side, Draco leaned across the couch to pull Harry into a kiss. “I love it. I’ve been wondering if wands and cores and potions were intertwined, but I haven’t been able to test that, and now this, and it’s perfect. I love it, and I love you.” He sucked in a breath, having not meant to push that on Harry so quickly, but he was tired of hiding how he felt from everyone, even himself. “I love you.”

Growling, Harry rose up, pressing Draco back into the couch cushions and deepening the kiss, tongue touching and tracing every bit of Draco’s mouth, like he was trying to commit him to memory. “Do you work tomorrow?”

Draco nodded. “Not ‘til later, though.”

“So, I don’t have to feel bad about keeping you up? Or keeping you here?”

Blushing, Draco shook his head. “I brought more in that bag than just your gift. Just in case.”

Kissing him again, Harry pulled Draco to his feet, hands running down his chest and to his hips, pulling him close and then pushing him toward the stairs. “I did promise you a next time.”

Whimpering, Draco let himself be guided up the stairs and down the hall, Harry’s hands and lips touching and kissing the entire way. He realized his shirt was off when they entered the spacious bedroom, noticing it was decorated with dark furniture and blue bed clothes. “No Gryffindor red and gold?”

“No.” Harry wrapped his arms around him, tweaking his nipples and making him cry out. “But I plan on trying out some Slytherin silver on every flat surface in here.”

“Oh god.” Draco shuddered, body pliant as Harry turned him, nudging him back onto the soft bed. “Strip.”

Draco whined again, slightly embarrassed by the sound, as he watched Harry strip his clothes and glasses off before divesting himself of his remaining clothes. He knew he lacked the solid muscle the had filled out Harry’s frame, his job not requiring the same physical labor, and he tried to cover himself with his arms as his gaze tracked the tanned skin that stretched the lean definition of Harry’s toned chest and abs, dark hair scattering both and trailing down to the impressive cock he’d had in his mouth only a few days before.

Harry stalked forward and tugged Draco’s hands away, stretching out over his body. “Don’t hide from me, please. I love looking at you.” His mouth trailed down Draco’s neck and over his collar bones. “You’re so soft, so delicate. I feel like I shouldn’t be trusted to touch you, but damn.” He gnashed his teeth over the sharp jut of Draco’s hip, making him yelp and moan. “I never want to stop. All of you is long and pale and perfect.” He wrapped his hand around Draco’s length, tugging, and Draco’s moan stuck in his throat, cracking. “All of you.”

Draco thrashed on the bed until Harry used his bulkier mass to hold him down, making him whimper as a fresh burst of arousal flood through him. Then that mouth, that sinfully sarcastic mouth, wrapped around him, making his focus splinter and hips lift.

Harry’s hands were calloused, rough, the nails short and blunt, and he touched every bit of Draco with them, scrapping in a way that contrasted the hot, smooth bob of his head as he sucked Draco deeper into his mouth. Then, those fingers slide down Draco’s cleft, swirled over his hole, and he whined, body clenching. Harry just continued to rub, though, teasing. Draco’s hips bucked upward, whines turning to cries with each roll of his body. Harry suddenly pressed his thumb to that spot just behind Draco’s balls and used his other hand to tug them.

Shouting, Draco came hard, vision whiting out, and everything faded away but the continued pressure of Harry’s thumb, the way his tongue seemed to massage overly sensitive flesh as he swallowed.

Harry kissed his way up Draco’s body as the blond man collapsed against the bed, panting for breath. His engorged shaft pressed against Draco’s hip, so he reached down, wrapping his hand around that thickness, thumb rolling over the head. Harry groaned and thrust against Draco’s fist, and he twisted his wrist every time the other man’s hips pulled back. With a moan, their lips met messily, sweaty bodies undulating into one another.

“Come for me, Harry. I want to feel you on me. Mark me as yours.”

With a broken shout, Harry’s hips jerked, his release coating Draco’s hand, hip, and stomach. He dropped down along the blond, wrapping his arms around him and hugging. Smiling, Draco let himself be hauled close, snuggling into Harry’s chest.


	16. I Don’t Need Expensive Things; They Don’t Matter to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I had family holiday stuff and some mental health issues making me feel a bit too bleh to do it justice. I'm back, though, and I'm already starting on the next chapter. I think that will be the last one, but I could be persuaded to add more. We'll see.

Harry and Draco weren’t able to see each other much over the next few days. Draco started the next round of testing for his potions project, and Harry ended up being sent out with a small group of Aurors to bust the toy-scalping network they’d been tracking before Christmas. He made it back the night before the big game, though, and sent an owl to Draco right away to let him know they were still on to watch the match and to have lunch with the Weasleys. He also asked Draco to meet him at Grimmauld and apparate to the game together.

The next day, he dressed in the jeans Oliver used to hate because he claimed they made everyone stare at Harry’s ass, he wanted Draco staring at his ass, but wobbled between two shirts. Should he wear the super soft, comfortable t-shirt that supported the Arrows or the green button-up that Draco always commented on as being nice and matching his eyes. He was still trying to decide when the wards flared, letting him know Draco had arrived. Jogging downstairs shirtless, he felt like an idiot but still stopped in the doorway to the living room holding up the two shirts. “Which one?”

Draco stared for a moment, looking at Harry, not the clothes, then strode across the room and kissed him hard, tongue battling for entrance then dominance.

Harry grinned when they finally parted, arms around Draco, shirts forgotten. “I missed you, too.”

Flushing, Draco stepped back. “Only a prat would wear a button-up to a quidditch game. Wear the t-shirt. Besides, I like the way it clings to all.” He ran a hand up Harry’s chest and over his shoulder. “This.”

Harry lifted his brows, knowing he’d seen Draco at games in button-ups. Today, though he was in a black long-sleeved shirt with a scarlet Barty the Bat on the front and tight black jeans. Very tight black jeans. Jeans that clung to lean legs that seemed to go on forever before ending at a heart-shaped ass. How did he have legs so long? Harry’s head jerked up when Draco snapped in his face. “Huh? What?”

Draco grinned, “We’re going to be late.”

Harry flushed and nodded, tossing the green shirt aside and pulling on the tee then Sirius’s old leather jacket. “So, I kind of wondered. Well. I wanted to meet here to talk about.” Harry sighed then sucked in a breath. “I know dating me means getting swept up by my chaos and people following and staring and wanting pictures and stuff, and I wondered if you were okay with that? I mean, if we go out today and act like we’re going out. Hell, we’re going to have people talking if we go out as friends, I know that, and I’m sorry if it bothers you, but if we act like we’re dating, they’re going to say even more.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m happy to be dating, and I’d gladly tell the world that I’m dating you, but if you’re not comfortable with that kind of attention…” He trailed off as he noticed Draco’s cheeks turning brighter as he started to smile.

“We’re dating?”

“Well, yeah? Aren’t we?”

Draco stepped forward to kiss him again, this time softer, sweeter. “Yes, we’re dating. And I’ve been swept up by your chaos, as you say, since we were eleven. At least now, I’m getting swept up by you, too.”

Harry grinned. “So, I can hold your hand after we arrive and stuff? Are you okay with that kind of PDA?”

Draco nodded, face still hot. “Yes, I’m okay with you touching me all you want.”

They linked arms and side-alonged to their assigned check point. The crowd went a bit quiet as they arrived, and Harry felt Draco stiffen. He grabbed his hand and smiled, “Come on. I want snacks.”

People still stared at they walked through, but it was surprisingly less blatant than Harry had expected, and no one said anything rude. He was used to the looks by this time, but he knew Draco was far less ostentatious than he’d been in school, more nervous about stares in public. They got drinks, nachos, and a couple bags of candy then walked toward their seats.

“I know I have a box, but I couldn’t exactly give you a pass to that as a gift without letting you know who was sending you stuff.” Draco cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “We could sit there, if you’d like. My family won’t be here to cause issues.”

“I’m fine sitting anywhere, so long as I’m seeing the game and with you.” Harry squeezed his hand, knowing Draco was hinting where he’d be more comfortable but not trying to push. “But I also don’t mind more space to move around. I get into quidditch.”

Draco relaxed visibly and nodded. “Yes, space is nice.”

The Malfoy box was large, lavish, and decorated in green, silver, and snakes, making Harry laugh.

“I know. It’s awful. I feel like our whole lineage might as well have walked around with the world Slytherin tattooed on our foreheads.”

Harry pulled Draco into a one-armed hug, rubbing his back. “Yeah, but you do have damn good taste in clothes. That much as always true.”

Draco preened under the praise. “We did a lot of rotten shit, but we looked good doing it. No one fails spectacularly with quite as much style as a Malfoy.”

Harry laughed at sat, setting their food down. “I heard the Blacks could give you a run for your money.”

Draco snorted. “Did you see Aunt Bella? Or Great-Aunt Wallburga? They were batshit, and it showed. They all started out nice, don’t get me wrong, but as their minds deteriorated, their clothing choices did, as well.”

Harry laughed harder, wrapping his arm around Draco and lounging back. “So, I have years of you showing me up to look forward to?” He felt Draco jolt next to him, and his face heated as he thought about what he’d said.

“Yes. You do.” Draco’s voice was quiet, but when Harry looked over, he was smiling. “Though, you’ve done a good job of cleaning up since you were younger. I’ve seen the crease marks in your slacks at work. Not bad.”

Harry snorted and kissed his cheek. “Prat.”

They continued to joke back and forth until the game started. The Bats had the better defense; their Beaters moved almost as quickly as the Chasers, blocking bludgers with machine precision, and their Keeper was a brick wall. The Arrows had the better Seeker, though. Best in the league.

Both men spent more time on their feet than in their seats, yelling along with the rest of the crowd and playfully wrestling over who got to be closer to the railing during the tensest parts. Finally, the Seekers dove toward the ground. The crowd was on their feet. The score was close. The Bats offense was shooting down the field toward the goals. They shot the quaffle as the Seekers collided.

The keeper stopped the quaffle, and the Arrows Seeker jerked upward at the last minute, snitch in hand. Harry yelled louder than he had the whole game and grabbed Draco, lifting him off his feet and spinning him in a circle. “Did you see that? He had to have waited until the very last minute to pull up.”

Laughing, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry. “Not as impressive as if he had a broken arm or caught it in his mouth, but yeah, he did good.”

They laughed, Harry letting Draco’s feet slide back down as he panted for breath from excitement. “Well, I did have to show off, right? Everyone’s golden boy and all.”

Draco laughed and nodded then gasped. “Oh! Speaking of snitches.” He pulled the snitch ring box Harry had sent him from his pocket. “I forgot to ask.” He snapped open the empty box, waggling it at Harry with a haughty brow raise. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Blushing, Harry shrugged. “I figured we ought to be officially dating before I gave you a gold ring.” He ducked, looking up at Draco through his fringe. “Next time?”

Draco swallowed hard, the pupils of his eyes dilating until the black almost took over the grey. “Yes.”

“Then, you will? Be my boyfriend, that is.”

“Yes.” Putting away the box and tugging Harry closer, Draco crashed their lips together, hands sliding under his shirt to flatten against his back.

Harry groaned into the kiss, feeling his t-shirt shift higher as Draco’s questing hands moved up toward his shoulders. The days apart suddenly felt too long, and he nipped Draco’s lips. “The box is private, right?” Draco nodded, mouth moving down Harry’s jaw to his throat. “And we don’t want to get stuck in the first rush for the apparition points.”

“No. No, we don’t.”

The moved as one, Harry stepping back and sitting on the plush couch-like seats of the box and Draco coming with him, crawling into his lap. Their lips found each other again, and Harry gripped Draco’s ass to pull their groins just as tightly against one another. Draco cried out softly, head falling back, and Harry gnashed his teeth along the delicate column of his throat, snarling as it wrenched another cry from the blond.

“I love when you get like this for me. Watching all that perfect posh politeness fade.” He punctuated each P word with an upward grind of his hips, grinning ferally as Draco whined and writhed in return. He worked his hands between their bodies to tug their flies down, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along Draco’s neck and down to his shoulder.

“Harder.” Draco lifted himself enough for Harry to shove the tight jeans out of the way. “Harder, Harry. I want your marks on me tomorrow. Want everyone to see.”

Harry groaned, mouth latching tightlhyonto the pale skin as he shoved his jeans to his hips and pulled Draco back against him. With a whispered lube charm, he wrapped his hand around them both, groaning again at the feel of Draco’s cock pressed against him. “Ride me.” Draco moaned, hips jerking as he started to roll his hips into Harry’s. “Just like that, baby.” Harry bit his way to Draco’s ear, murmuring. “I want you to use my body until you fall apart for me.”

Draco’s keening cry went straight to Harry’s dick, and he struggled to catch his breath as he fought cumming just at the sound. Tightening his hand, he rolled his hand over the heads of their lengths, squeezing the way he’d learned Draco liked. Draco’s breathing turned choppy, hips thrusting against Harry’s, and he leaned back, arching his body to press closer, move harder.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Harry murmured another spell as he slid his fingers down Draco’s ass, pressing them against him until he found his hole. When Draco widened his stance to allow better access, Harry nipped his ear, growling. “So needy for it aren’t you?”

“Stop teasing and touch me, Potter.” Draco’s demand lacked any real dig, though, his voice reedy and breaking.

“What did you call me?” Harry hadn’t known his voice could drop that low, take that tone, but he stopped moving both hands as he spoke, smiling when Draco keened again and full body undulated into him.

“Harry!”

“Harry what?”

“Harry, please!”

Harry sank one finger into Draco’s ass as he resumed jerking them off, and Draco moaned loudly, the sound becoming a litany of begging and pleases and mores. Harry’s mouth fell open as he watched his boyfriend’s lithe body writhe rhythmically, flush covering his face and moving down his throat to disappear into the top of his shirt. Harry had the sudden urge to rip the shirt off, wanting to see the way Draco’s nipples would flush as the blush reached them, but before he could wrap his brain around how to do that without stopping touching the other man, Draco went tense, arched, and cried out Harry’s name over and over as his release striped both their shirts. The way his ass clenched around Harry’s finger, muscles milking it with every shudder that wracked his body, made Harry’s brain short out. He lifted his hips, rocking upward until his own release hit, and he yelled Draco’s name, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and crushing him close.

Long minutes later, their breathing calmed, and the spunk that coated their bodies and shirts had gone cold and seemed to be sticking them together. Draco sat up and stretched, satisfied smile on his face, and Harry licked a stripe up his throat, making him whimper.

“Come home with me? We’ve got lunch with my family tomorrow, anyways.”

Smiling, Draco grabbed his wand and cleaned them up, then cupped Harry’s face to kiss him. “Yes. Again. Always yes.”


	17. All I Want Is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this would be the end, but it's not. I'm doing at least one more chapter. Probably a couple more. I've had a major blow recently, and I need to give these boys a little more happiness before I can let them go.

Draco woke Harry with his mouth around the other man’s cock, and by the time they’d stumbled through their shower where Harry dropped to his knees to return the favor, they were running late.

“You’re wearing the green shirt, today.”

“That’s too fancy for the Burrow.”

“I don’t care. You look hot in it, and I’m sure Molly will appreciate you not dressing like a hooligan.”

“She raised seven of them. I think she’s used to it.”

“Well, I’m not!”

“Fine, what are you? Wait, are you transfiguring one of my shirts to fit you?’

“Yes. I can’t very well show up in yesterday’s t-shirt. The woman is probably already going to go apoplectic when she sees me. I ought to at least try, and my best clothes are at my house.”

“…if you brought some stuff here, that wouldn’t be a problem next time…”

That statement led to events that made them even later and required several straightening charms on their hair and clothes, though they seemed to do nothing for Harry's hair.

“You’re meant for hooligan.”

“You’re dating hooligan, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’ve succeeded in failing my father in the best way possible.”

The two were laughing as they charmed and held their portkey, landing with an unsteady thump near the Weasley’s back yard.

Harry took Draco’s suddenly clammy hand and started toward the towering, oddly-stacked house. “Normally, we’d use Sirius’s flying bike. Molly hates it, but Arthur’s thrilled to pieces every time I bring it over.”

“His flying what?” Draco came to an abrupt halt.

“Motorcycle. But that would have made us very late.”

“You want me to trust a muggle machine charmed to fly.”

“No.” Harry kissed his cheek, tugging him forward again. “I want you to trust me.”

“That’s not fair. You’ve been around me too long. You’re turning Slytherin.”

Harry laughed, pointing up the hill. “That’s where we’d practice quidditch in the summers. And the garden is there. I love it.”

“Very cottage style.” Harry frowned as he looked over at Draco who’d stepped away to peer over the wall. “There’s a tradition in English gardens to leave things a bit wilder, more dense and less ornate. Grace versus grandeur kind of thing. I’ve never seen one, though. Mother always liked pristine order and neatness. Oh! What’s that?”

Harry stepped closer to him, arms around his waist. “That moving potato thing?” Draco nodded. “That’s a gnome.”

“It’s cute!”

“It’s a gnome.”

“It’s still cute.”

“You’ve never seen a gnome?”

Draco snorted. “You think my family would have stood for such creatures in our precious flower beds? And any food gardens like this were kept far away from where I could be exposed to them. I went berry picking once. A wife of some diplomat father was schmoozing took me and their kids. My fingers were stained blue and purple, and I thought mother would have a heart attack.”

Harry hugged Draco tighter, thinking back to the insane mess of his office versus the boy who never had a hair out of place or wore anything but the best. “Well, we could get a gnome.”

Draco twisted in Harry’s arms, forehead creased even as he seemed to bite his lip against a smile. “We could?”

“Yeah, I mean. I’ve spent most of my time on redoing the inside of Grimmauld, just cleaned up the yard and sort of left it.” Harry took a breath, latched on to his Gryffindor bravery and damn-the-torpedoes attitude as he continued speaking more rapidly. “I wanted to do more with it, but I didn’t know what, and I was always working. Why not get a gnome? Build a rustic garden? Put in some berry…patches? Vines?”

“Bushes.” The creases disappeared from Draco’s face as he smiled fully. “Blueberries grow on bushes. They’re my favorite.”

Harry smiled back, kissing Draco. “So, we plant some bushes and get a gnome.”

He kissed Draco again, the two getting lost in the soft pecks and thoughts of gardens until someone cleared their throat behind them. Jumping apart and blushing, they turned to find Hermione standing there, hands on her hips, hair wildly twisted into a makeshift bun on top of her head.

“I am pregnant and not allowed to attack that baked chicken until you two get inside and try it.”

Harry laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, my bad. Come on, Dray.”

Draco’s face was splotchy red as he nodded and followed. “Congratulations on the baby, Gra—, Weas—, Hermione.”

“Thank you. We’re very excited about her.”

“You already know it’s a girl?” Harry looked over, noticing that Hermione’s stomach barely even curved enough to notice. Had he not known she was pregnant, he’d have never guessed it. “It is not too early to tell?”

“ _I_ know she’s a girl.”

Draco nodded rapidly.

“Oh, come off it. You can’t know that, not for real. Can you?”

Hermione spun around, and Draco yelped and ducked behind Harry. “Look, unless you’re the one close enough for her to hit, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes but grinned, noting that Hermione absolutely glowed at the praise for thirteen-year-old-hers swing. “And honestly, I believe her. It’s her body that’s growing the baby, and women’s bodies have all sorts of crazy intuition about that sort of thing. Why can’t she know what she’s having?”

“How do you know about pregnancy?” Hermione cocked her head to one side, studying Draco with renewed interest.

He cleared his throat and straightened, smoothing a hand down his shirt. “Aunt Bella made some…some threats…about Tonks being pregnant, when she found out.” He shrugged. “I did a bit of research on what happened in pregnancies to see what charms or protections were safe.”

Hermione’s eyes were full of tears, and Harry was stunned. To be living with Bellatrix and Voldemort but actively working against them like that. He hadn’t expected such a thing from younger Draco. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could have expected such a thing from most people at that age.

Draco was bright pink again. “I never actually did anything. I mean, Aunt Bella didn’t try to go after Tonks, and Remus always kept her protected.”

His words ended as Hermione stepped forward and hugged him tightly, sniffling into his shoulder. “Not the point, Draco. Not the point.”

“Oi! Are you lot going to make it back inside or am I going to have to come pry your boyfriend off my wife?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, but yeah, we’re coming.”

Hermione waved a frustrated hand at Ron, wiping her eyes with the other. “This from the man who was too afraid to come break up you guys kissing because he might say something wrong or see something he shouldn’t, so he sent his pregnant wife to do it.”

“Honestly, I think he just knows you’re far more intimidating that any of the rest of us.”

She laughed as they reached the back door, and Molly stepped up to take their coats and hug Harry. “Food is going on the table as we speak.”

Molly motioned them both into the kitchen, broom sweeping away, dishes going in the sink, Ron and Arthur setting the table while Hermione launched into a lecture on her newest plan for Being Equality. “It’s still a bit snug. Not so much since the kids all moved out, but no big manor house.” She seemed to realize what she’d said, and quickly cleared her throat, continuing by saying, “Everyone thinks we should have spruced up the Burrow, what with having come into money since the War, but we didn’t. It’s just the same as it always was.”

“I don’t doubt that.” There was a moment of tension, the others obviously worried Draco would fall back on snide comments. He’d been turning a slow circle, taking everything in, but as he finished the move, he faced Molly with a wide grin. “It feels like a real home. Why would you change that?”

Molly seemed to fall over herself to hug Draco just as tightly as Hermione had outside. “Oh, goodness. You’re too thin. Harry, have you not been feeding him?”

“Molly,” Arthur cut in, “I think the boys are old enough to feed themselves.”

“Nonsense. This one’s so caught up in work all the time. I bet you’re just the same. Won’t do.” She ushered them both to the table. “I’ve got a berry crisp for dessert, but I’ll put some cookies on to bake and send home with you.”

Harry leaned over to whisper, “Her specialty are snickerdoodles.”

“I, that’s a lot of trouble. You don’t need.”

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand under the table, as Molly shushed him, already waving her wand to mix ingredients.

Lunch started once the first batch were in the oven, Molly piling Draco’s plate high like she did Harry’s that first summer he was over. Hermione continued discussing her plan, and Draco made several comments about who she could speak to in order to strengthen her backing.

“Why would I want to include Wilkes? His father was…I mean.”

“No, no, that’s exactly why.” Draco nodded, motioning to himself. “His family went to pot after his father’s death during the first war. It was just him and his mother, who didn’t support the whole pureblood thing as it turned out she wasn’t actually one herself. Hidden affair led to her being half-blood, you see. Anyways, Voldemort turned on them, and they lacked the money necessary to rebuild their reputation. He’s managed to work his way up in the Ministry, though, and if you gave him a chance to put his name on something so big, especially when that connects him to your name.” Draco shrugged. “Slytherin’s know a good thing, know what will get them ahead, but we’re also willing to put in work to achieve our goals.”

Hermione nodded, digging through her bag for a notebook to scribble a note to herself. “I’ll look into him. Thank you. I’m guessing I’ve got your support, too, since you’re who funded the bill’s start?”

Harry dropped his fork, and Ron choked on his bite of chicken.

“I didn’t fund it. Bills don’t exactly get funded,” Draco mumbled, looking at his plate.

Hermione raised a brow, giving Draco’s haughty look a run for its money. “We both know that had your name and money not been behind it, the idea would have died before anyone in the Ministry even knew it existed. Plus, you freeing all your house elves after the war and then hiring the ones who wanted to return and work for your family, giving them a comfortable living area and the promise of no more punishments, set a standard for everyone else.”

Draco cleared his throat, tugging at his collar, eyes darting around the table of people now staring at him. “I, well, that is.” He sighed. “Oh, what the hell. Of course, you have my support. And it only set a standard because no one wanted to be known as less kind than the Malfoys.”

“I don’t care why it set a standard, it did.” Hermione nodded and added a third helping of chicken to her plate.

Draco leaned into Harry. “She’d have made one hell of a Slytherin, you know.”

Harry laughed and nodded. “Arthur, why don’t you tell Draco about what we’ve done to the bike. He’s a bit nervous about it.”

They spent most of the afternoon at the Burrow, sitting in front of the fire and telling Draco stories of the trouble they all got into as kids.

“Trouble _you two_ got into as kids. I recall getting you out of trouble.”

“I recall you thinking you needed wood to make a fire.”

“Don’t start, Ronald Weasley!”

Molly ended up sending them home with cookies, part of the crisp, a loaf of bread, and another jumper for Draco. “I know Harry said the dark rose was your favorite color, but I think found this slate-colored yarn the other day and just knew it would work with your eyes. Besides, no one can have enough jumpers with the weather like it is.”

By the time they were back at Grimmauld, it was already getting dark, and Draco seemed on the verge of tears from how well everything had gone.

“So that’s what family is like?” He seemed to catch himself, scrubbed his hands through his hair, and shook his head. “Your family is like. That’s what your family is like.”

Harry caught his hands. “Yeah, that’s what a family is like. Andromeda and Teddy are just as bad about fussing over you and making you eat, if you give them the chance. Dre is just sneakier about it. You end up with half a meal and three desserts and thinking you’re somehow doing her a favor by taking it.”

Draco nodded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “Father was, well, father. He wanted more money, more power, more everything. He never made a move without planning through exactly how it would look to everyone around and how to minimize any fallout to our image. And mother, I think image was all she had. She hadn’t grown up in a loving home, wasn’t in a loving marriage. But she could be worshiped, in a way, if she was perfect. Perfect clothes, perfect gardens, perfect family and manners.”

“And you? What about you?”

Draco looked up, face wet. “I like blueberries and gnomes and Weasley jumpers and Weasleys, and I want to go to the ice cream parlor with you instead of worrying how it would look to eat something so messy in public.” Harry wrapped him in a hug as he took a shuddering breath, choking back a sob. “I want wild gardens and a muggle television and a cat. Not some fancy cat who has their own house elf to follow them around and keep things clean but some basic little stripped cat that looks like every other stripped cat and who runs around and climbs curtains and gets hair on everything, and I want to go to work with cat hair on my Weasley jumper and not give one god damn.”

Draco’s tears had soaked the shoulder of Harry’s shirt by the time he finished, and he sagged heavily against him as Harry rubbed his back and murmured nonsense against his temple.

All those years, Harry had hated Draco for having what he didn’t, for having the parents and the house and the gifts. He’d seen how Lucius had bought brooms to get his son of the quidditch team, how Narcissa had sent treats every week. Comparing that to the Dursley’s denying Harry’s existence when it suited them and ignoring him the rest of the time, Malfoy seemed to have a charmed life. He supposed there was more than one way to make someone feel like a burden rather than a child, though.

“I’m sorry for that. I know my mother loved me, loves me. I shouldn’t complain, not with all I was given, how much I was coddled.”

“Yeah, you should.” Draco blinked, and Harry moved to get him a tissue. “Just because you were given a lot of stuff doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt to know you had to earn it by behaving a certain way. And loving you doesn’t mean she didn’t make some bad choices that hurt you. You can know someone did their best and still admit you want something different than what they have.”

Draco blew his nose and gave a watery laugh. “When did you become the voice of reason?”

“When I started dating someone who reminded to me to be reasonable and be happy.”

Draco sniffed and went back into Harry’s arms, leaning against him until the room turned chilly as the fire started to die down.

“Come on. You head upstairs and wash your face. There’s a headache potion in the cabinet if you need it. I’ll put everything up and meet you there.”

He nudged Draco toward the stairs and went to stoke the fire, but when he turned back around, Draco was still standing there, face streaky and mottled red. “Draco?”

“I-I think I need to go home. I just. I think I need to go home.” Harry took a step forward, but Draco stepped back, holding his hand up. “I’m not mad at you. I just. I don’t know.”

“It’s just hard to feel all this? It’s a struggle to sort out who you are and how you feel about yourself from what you were told growing up?” Draco stopped moving away, and his hand dropped. Harry’s mouth twisted to one side, and he shrugged. “I’ve done this, too, you know. I’ve been there. I don’t want you to go home. Both selfishly because I don’t want you to leave me, but also, it’s harder to do this alone. It helps to have people around, to lean on someone who loves you.” Draco made a sharp, cracked sound, and Harry stepped forward, wrapping his around his boyfriend. “Let me take care of you, okay? Don’t make my mistakes.”

Draco’s whole body shuddered, not answering, and Harry caught and held his breath. Finally, he said, “Okay.”

Harry nodded jerkily. “Thank you, baby. Are you okay going upstairs while I put everything up, or would you rather us go together?”

“I’m not a child.”

Harry could hear the pout in Draco’s voice, and he fought the urge to smile. “I know, but sometimes, I really hate being alone.”

“I’ll be okay.” Draco turned and headed for the stairs, arms crossed tightly across his stomach. He stopped just before he reached them. “Just, maybe don’t take too long?”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Of course, baby. I’ll be right there.”

After quickly putting away the food Molly had sent home, Harry double-checked the wards, jogged up the stairs, and rushed through brushing his teeth and stripping down to his pants before crawling in bed behind Draco and wrapping his arms around him. Nuzzling his face into the soft blond hair at the nape of Draco’s neck, Harry murmured that he was beautiful and wonderful and the best thing that had ever happened to him. His arms tightened when Draco started crying softly again, and he continued to whisper all the things he loved about his boyfriend, how much he admired what it took to admit your faults and flaws and mistakes and rebuild from the ground up, to learn to be better than you’d been raised.

Finally, Draco’s body quit shaking, and his breathing evened out. He mumbled, “Thank you for understanding, Harry.”

Harry. He was still calling him Harry. That was a good sign. “Until the end, love. You’re a part of me, now.” Harry kissed along the back of his neck, smiling as he felt the other man drift into sleep.


	18. All Was Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the semester has started, and it's HELLA crazy, so I'm ending this piece here. I have some others that I'm working on, though, and once I get a few chapters written and/or outlined, I'll start posting one of those. Thank you everyone for the sweet comments and kudos and reading!

Harry was careful to not push Draco too hard over the next few days, knowing his emotions would already be raw, but he also made sure to stop by his office whenever they both worked in order to say hello or invite him to dinner. Little by little, Draco relaxed again, gaining confidence in how much he was wanted.

The next Saturday, Draco got off work just as Harry was going to lunch. Harry smiled as he Draco poked his head into his office.

“Hey, baby. You heading home?”

“I was actually going to see if you wanted to eat together, first.” He nodded to where Ron was sitting across from Harry at the desk. “I see you have plans, though.”

“Come along, then.” Both Harry and Draco started as Ron spoke, but he simply shrugged and kept talking. “We’re just going to the taco truck downstairs, since I’ve gotta meet ‘Mione for doctor’s appointment.”

Draco’s mouth worked for a moment; then, he nodded. “I like tacos.”

Harry grinned and grabbed his cloak. “Great. I’m starving.”

They all headed toward the lift, Ron and Draco discussing how the quidditch match had gone the previous weekend.

“Technically, my having a family box means I can go to any game I want. If you’d like, we could all meet up and watch the Magpies play the Kestrels at the end of the month.”

“Really? Bloody hell, mate, that’d be awesome. I don’t think Hermione would be interested, but I don’t think she’ll mind having an afternoon free of me.” Ron laughed, clapping Draco on the back. “George would probably love to come, though. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Draco shook his head rapidly, looking as if he still didn’t believe Ron was saying yes. “No, that’s fine. The box is big enough your whole family could come along.” He blushed suddenly. “Not that I’m trying to brag or anything. I just meant.”

Ron laughed and nudged him. “I know what you meant. I’ll ask the others, but Harry and Ginny get a bit overzealous.”

“So, I should sit next to you and Cho?”

Harry snorted. “I can hear you two. And Cho is worse than us both.”

Draco laughed, the sound relaxed and truly happy. “We’ll put them at one end to themselves.”

Ron grinned and nodded, motioning for Draco to step into line ahead of him. “Sounds like a plan.”

Lunch went well, with Draco and Ron dominating the conversation by trading stories about which teams they grew up liking.

“I think I always liked the Canons for being the underdogs. One of those, if they can be great, maybe I can, too. Hermione says a therapist would love to analyze that.”

“My father demanded we support Tornadoes, since they were willing to use blackmail and torture to win. I always liked the Bats, though. Their red uniforms horrified father, but that just made me like them more. I bet Hermione would send me to a therapist, too.”

Ron left about five minutes before Harry had to go back to lunch. “I’ll owl you two about that game, yeah?”

Harry grinned and pulled Draco into a kiss once they were alone, resisting the urge to deepen it like he wanted. “He’s your friend forever, if you’re willing to share that box.”

Draco blushed but let himself be pulled against Harry’s chest. “I’d rather share it with friends than what’s left of my family.”

Harry smiled. “I think we’ll all have fun. See you tonight?”

“I have some work to do that means I need to stay at my house, so you’d have to come to me.”

Harry grinned, stealing one more kiss before standing. “Always.”

After work, Harry showed up at Draco’s with a bottle of Ogden’s and an overnight bag, making Draco smirk when he opened the door.

“Come on in. Dibby is just finishing dinner. I got caught up in work, so I asked if she wouldn’t mind.”

Harry dropped his bag next to the front door and toed off his shoes. “You know the house elves here by name?”

“I know this one.”

The little elf popped into the living room, bowing, her large green eyes moving from one man to the other. “Dibby to collect Mr. Potter’s bag?”

“Please. Put it in the bedroom and you can take the rest of the night off.”

“If you’re sure, Mr. Draco.”

He nodded, and Dibby bowed again, snapped, and disappeared along with the bag. Studying where she was, Harry frowned. She seemed familiar, but he didn’t understand how. Draco seemed to sense his thoughts. “She’s related to Dobby. I asked her to come with me when I left the Manor. She’s been freed, of course, but she’s looked after me most of my life. It felt wrong to not have her anymore.”

Harry felt like he couldn’t breath for a moment. “Dobby?”

Draco nodded. “A great aunt type of relation, but yes, they were related.” He grimaced and scrubbed his face. “I wish we’d be nicer to them all. Wish father hadn’t.” He paused and took a deep breath. “But I suppose there’s no way to change that. Just to be better now, right?”

Harry nodded, swallowing. “Yes. Does she…does she talk about him? Miss him?”

“Yes.” Draco smiled. “We visit his grave on his birthday. Take him socks.”

Walking over, Harry hugged his boyfriend. “I love you.” He felt Draco freeze in his arms, and he nuzzled his temple. “You’re so amazing, and I’m so amazed that I get to be with you.” Stepping back, he cupped the blond’s face. “I love you.”

Draco swallowed hard. “I love you, too.”

Their lips met, heat blooming. Draco pulled his wand out to wave it at the kitchen while muttering a stasis charm before pushing Harry toward the bedroom. Harry kissed Draco again, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, pausing as Draco tumbled backward onto the bed. Kneeling on the bed, he finished removing the shirt, lips trailing over Draco’s throat, chest, down his stomach.

“You’re so soft, so beautiful.” He nipped Draco’s belly button, grinning when the other man whined and writhed on the bed, before running his tongue down the barely-there line of hair that trailed to the top of his slacks. Undoing them, Harry tugged the trousers and pants down, discarding them before kissing his way up Draco’s leg. He smiled against Draco’s skin as the other man arched and shuddered, running his tongue over the crease of his thigh. “I want you so much.”

Draco’s fists clenched in the sheets, lower body lifting, and he whispered. “I’m yours to take.”

Groaning, Harry shifted the two of them farther back on the bed and lifted Draco’s feet to rest on his shoulders, pushing his legs back enough to expose his tightly furled hole. Draco shifted, whining softly in confusion before giving a shout of shock and pleasure as Harry ran his tongue up the hidden cleft to mouth at the sensitive area below Draco’s balls then wrap his lips around one, sucking. Repeating the action but teasing the other ball, Harry hummed around the heavy sac. He released it, murmured a cleaning charm, then lowered his head again, running his tongue around the pale rim of Draco’s hole. Alternating between sucking and licking, he slowly worked Draco open enough to thrust his tongue inside. Draco’s toes curled, digging into Harry’s shoulders, and he reached down to sink a hand into Harry’s thick curls, tugging him closer as he babbled a stream of _oh god, oh god,_ and _Harry please_ and _fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Draco’s hips began a slow rock, thrusting back in time to Harry’s tongue fucking into him. Harry lifted his head long enough to suck on one finger then sink it into Draco. He kissed and nipped around the sensitive rim, slowly thrusting as he turned his wrist to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves that had Draco shouting again and arching off the bed.

“Harry, please.” One foot skidded across the sweat on Harry’s back as Draco’s entire body writhed. “I want…I want more.”

Harry lifted his head, nuzzling Draco’s inner thigh. “More how, love?”

He could hear Draco swallow before taking a breath and turning his head to look down his body at Harry. “I want you to make love to me.”

Harry carefully removed his finger and crawled over Draco, wiping his face before kissing him. “Are you sure?”

Draco nodded and kissed him again. “I trust you, Harry. I want this with you.”

Shuddering, Harry groaned and slanted his lips over Draco’s, mouths fusing and tongues thrusting in a mimicry of what their bodies were about to do. Pulling away, Harry stripped his jeans and pants slowly, giving Draco a moment to catch his breath and make sure he really wanted this. When no denial came, he murmured the incantation for lube and moved back onto the bed, sliding his hand between Draco’s legs to coat his hole before slipping that same seeking digit from before back inside.

He could feel more tension in Draco’s body, knew this wasn’t something he’d done often, too nervous about letting people close considering his past. Smiling, Harry teased the head of Draco’s cock with his tongue, slowly sucking it into his mouth and taking more and more down as he started thrusting his finger deeper into Draco. When the tension melted into desire once again, Harry added a second finger, rubbing them over Draco’s prostate then scissoring to open him up. By the time Draco was back to murmuring a mixture of curse words and pleading, Harry was aching with want, but he carefully added a third finger first, wanting to make sure his boyfriend was fully prepped.

He kissed his way back up Draco’s body, groaning softly as their lips met. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too.” Draco’s voice broke on a whine, and he arched, squeezing around Harry’s fingers. “Please, Harry.”

Harry slicked himself with more of the lube then lined up and pressed slowly inside, cursing under his breath as the head breached Draco’s body and hesitating.

With a whimper, Draco pressed their lips back together. “I’m okay. Keep going. Please.”

Harry dropped his forehead against Draco’s and slowly worked his way deeper in small, rolling thrusts until he was all the way inside.

“You’re so tight.” Harry swallowed, gasping for breath. “But you feel so good.”

“So do you.” Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, body undulating. “Don’t stop.”

Faces still pressed close enough to breathe each other in, Harry rocked his hips into Draco, speeding his thrusts when Draco dug his nails into Harry’s back. He lifted his weight more fully onto his arms, angling his hips to hit that bundle of nerves inside Draco on each thrust, grinding his hips down when Draco cried out.

“Oh, god, Harry. I can’t.” Draco’s head thrashed on the pillow, eyes squeezing shut as his body clamped down around Harry. “It’s too good. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, baby. Just let go and ride it out. It’ll feel even better when you do.” He sped his hips, each thrust sharper and harder, and in seconds Draco was shouting his name, body spurting between their stomachs as his core rippled, milking Harry’s cock.

With a groan, Harry dropped his face into the crook of Draco’s neck, losing his rhythm as he simply thrust until his own orgasm hit.

Collapsing along his boyfriend, they lay panting and curled together, both unable to quit touching the other. A lingering brush of fingers here, soft stroke there, nuzzles and kisses. Both smiling so wide it hurt.

Harry rolled to his back and cast a cleaning charm over them, arm still around Draco who snuggled into his side, saying, “You know, having Christmas for an anniversary is _so_ maudlin.”

Harry laughed. “We could pick another day, if you’d like.”

Draco pinched his side, lightly. “ _You know_ having _Christmas_ for an _anniversary_ is so _maudlin_.”

Laughing, Harry tugged the blond up to kiss him. “Yeah, okay.” He stroked Draco’s cheek. “I think it fits, though. All the red and green together. Happy.”

Draco blushed and nodded, pressing closer. “Yeah, yeah it does.”

Harry smiled as they continued to lay together for a bit, neither too worried about going to eat just yet. He already had plans for next Christmas. And that little snitch ring box.

_Fin_


End file.
